Sixth Year Itch
by nfmadprops04
Summary: DMHG: Hermione is a grand prefect. Draco, a slut. What happens when a dark Malfoy family secret is revealed and Draco wants more? When he wants her? [M for language, occasional smut, violence, drug content, adult situations and intense themes.]
1. Uninvited Guests

Chapter One: Uninvited Guests  
  
The leaves flew in an ominous circle around Hogwart's, the winds of the fall spinning and spinning the delicate foliage. It was Harry's birthday again - the first day of school.  
Everything was as it had been for the past 5 years. Hermione sat next to Harry, with Ron across from them. A few first years had joined Gryffindor, sitting nearest to Dumbledore and the rest of the elite faculty. The tables, the Great Hall, the houses, everything was the same on the whole.  
"Alright," Harry began, his longish brown hair had been cut closer to his head over the summer, his bangs no longer hiding the proud scar, the "Z" that everyone delighted in touching. Hermione watched the two friends work a new spell they'd learned in sixth year transfigurations. They had an apple sitting between them, and two wands aimed at it.  
"Mutare fructus magnus!" Ron yelled, swishing, then flicking his wand. The apple then floated up for a second, and with a burst of light, a watermelon was suddenly suspended in its place. It was marvelous for a second, until gravity kicked in. The melon came crashing down on the table, splattering thick sugary liquid everywhere. Hermione sighed.  
"You couldn't have picked a smaller fruit?" Ron blushed.  
"Putting magnus at the end makes it larger, dummy," Harry said, wiping his glasses.  
  
Draco looked up as large catastrophe heard over at the Gryffindor table.   
"What in bloody hell was that?" He heard a kid ask.  
"No doubt it's that damned Potter," he replied, mercilessly stabbing his meal with a fork. He was taller now, the ghostly blonde hair accented his slight tan he'd accumulated during his summer trip with his father to the muggle island of Barbados. They'd created a typhoon - something the people in Barbados weren't prepared for. It had been wonderous. Dinner was dismissed, and the upperclassmen (5th, 6th and 7th years) were allowed to do whatever for the next three hours until bed. Draco knew what he would do.   
  
***************************  
Hermione sat in her bed, the silken maroon and gold sheets lining her queen size. Finally nabbing a spot as prefect did have its benefits. She'd beaten that bitch Beverly Took out for the spot in her fifth year. Her thin, slender fingers slid across the thin pages of the Potions book, her nails shining like glass.   
She was seventeen now, her hair had finally begun to reason with her, straightening out occasionally, and she was quite taller than she had been when she'd first began attending the school. She sighed as the words on the page swirled and blended. They mixed together in a cacophony of tan and black, the spells and ingredients becoming a mass of blurry magic. She was tired.  
Her head popped up from its languid gaze as the door flew to her room flew open in a burst of fury. A tall figure entered, two men behind her carrying large boxes as she walked forward, her light brown hair floating behind her. Hermione stepped up, a bit furious that her prefect suite was being interrupted. She stood, and left her room.  
The girl who had come in was dress in a Gryffindor uniform, obviously, but she didn't have the pure demeanor most of the Gryffindor students possessed. She looked as if she belonged in Slytherin. Her hair was a bit of a honey brown, with red streaks running through it. It reached down to the middle of her shoulder blades. Her eye makeup was a little heavy, black eyeliner, dark browns and more blacks. Her skin was slightly pale, and her lips were uncolored, covered only by a thin layer of gloss. This stranger looked up to see Hermione, and smiled.  
"Hey," she began, tossing off her robe. She made a quick gesture, and the guys carrying her suitcases set them down. She opened up what looked to be a carrying case for an animal that a muggle would use. This newcomer opened it, removing a pure white cat. She kissed it. "I'm sorry for just barging in on your studying. I missed the train, so I had to have my dad drive me, and then I had to have this meeting with Dumbledore, and get sorted and all this bullshit. I haven't eaten since like, 2. What's your name?" Hermione sighed, she hoped this girl shut up occasionally.  
"Hermione Granger. Why did they put you in this room?"  
"Last one left for sixth years." Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry if I seemed flustered when I got in. I really won't be a bother."  
"You are...." She asked, bowing her head, looking at this girl.   
"My name's Lisette Bronwyn," She replied. As her mouth released the vowels, Hermione could barely make out a small silver ball in her mouth.  
"You peirced your tongue?!" She almost shouted.  
"Yes....sh. I think its against the rules."  
"It's terrible for your teeth." Lisette laughed, and began to change. Hermione was even more shocked as Lisette removed her shirt, and revealed a tattoo. It was a star, and inside of it was the name "Angeline." The star looked beautiful, and seemed as if it were moving, the name seemed to shine.  
"Who's Angeline?" She asked.  
"Angeline was my mother. She died four years ago," Lisette answered, sliding on a pair of boy-cut briefs and a baggy flannel shirt that buttoned.  
"Are you muggle-born?" Hermione asked. This girl had a very unwitch-like feel to her.  
"Quarter muggle, yes. My grandfather, mum's side. Any more questions?"  
"No," she replied, smiling politely. "I'll see you in the morning."  
  
***************************************  
  
Draco stood in his room, which overlooked the pond from one of Slytherin's rooms. It had cost his father a pretty penny for this room with a view, but it got him the things he wanted. He looked over at his bed, to see the random Ravenclaw student asleep, her hair in a matted fury on the pillows. He'd managed to finagle his way into getting a king size, but Snape liked him.  
He took another drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out the open window before looking at the thing. It was smaller than a pen cap now. He flicked it away, then got up and turned to the bed. He'd resolved himself into this pattern.   
A foot slammed violently into the mattress, tossing the unconcious girl who lay in it around a bit. She lifted her hair up, the black tresses sliding off her back.   
"Draco, what the fu-"  
"You gotta go."  
"Excuse me?" She asked, sitting up and looking at him. She held the black bedsheets to her chest.  
"I'm done with you. You can go now. C'mon, get out." He said, tossing her a crumpled Ravenclaw uniform. She sat up boltright, and angrily got dressed. He smiled watching her, and waited for her to say something as he sat in his dark green chair.   
"See you at breakfast," he replied, smirking, scantily clad in a pair of boxers.  
"Fuck you."  
  
She shut the door, and he leaned his head back. He'd lost count. He'd started the mass fornication near the end of his fourth year. He'd been....fifteen? His father knew, but he didn't care. All his father cared about was having no mudblood heirs. So Draco attempting most of the time to keep within the pureblood pool. But he'd run out, to his knowledge.  
"Busy night, Draco?" He heard, and he turned around.  
"Holy shit!" He yelled, nearly falling out of his chair.  
"Nice language. It's comforting to know you don't kiss your mother with that mouth," Lucius said, stepping away from the wall. Draco stood up, nearly his father's height now, and broadening his physique.  
"How long have you been there?" He asked. The thought of his father watching him get laid made him sick to his stomach.   
"From the line about how she was the most beautiful girl you'd seen in all your six years here, and if she'd like some pureblood in her." Draco held back his gag.  
"Father-"  
"Since she has none!" He said, and Draco received a swift cane to the face. Lucius' hand grasped his son's jaw.   
"I work too hard, Draco, too hard and too long trying to make sure our family keeps our face - and our influence. I can't have my son mercilessly slaughtering my hard work because he needed a quick fuck!"  
"Father-"  
"If you screw this up for any of us, for your mother, or your brothers, I will disown you and send you into the muggle world."  
"I understand."  
"Draco Malfoy, spells and incantations do not go over well outside of our world."  
"Yes, sir," he said, the blood beginning to slide gently from the wound that his father's cobra had given him.  
"You mother sends her regards." He said, and vanished.  
"Shit," Draco said, his hand slowly ascending to his head, and it came away, drenched in crimson, "father knows best my ass." 


	2. Spells & Showers

**I do not own any characters except for Lisette Bronwyn.**  
  
Chapter Two: Spells & Showers  
  
Draco sat at the table that morning, an incantation he'd learned had mostly healed the cut he'd gotten from his father, and he had successfully avoided the subject of last night's union. She'd been more than a little pissed. He smirked. Hey, he thought, If I was a girl, I wouldn't want to leave Draco's room either.  
Crabb and Goyle sat on the sides of him, chiding him for information, but he kept his mouth shut. A gentleman never tells....everything. He gave no names, but spilled details. He could tell the two were fixing to explode with tension when he saw an unfamiliar figure enter the room. His eyes narrowed, and he couldn't make out the face.  
"Who is that?" He asked. Goyle shrugged.  
"I dunno, never seen her before in my life," he replied, the three of them eyeing this new Gryffindor conquest.  
"Well, then," he began, slicking back his hair and grabbing a bit of food, "I guess its high time we were introduced."  
"Pun not intended, huh, Drake?" Crabb said, and suffered the hit from Draco as he stood up.  
  
Malfoy slowly made his way towards the Gryffindor table, a confident smile on his face. This girl was sensual to him. She sat up straight, and laughed at a joke that a member of the Quidditich team was making. Her back was to him, and Hermione leaned over to speak this girl.  
  
**************************  
  
Hermione looked up from Harry's Dark Arts notes, to see the egotistical Malfoy making his dreaded way over to their table.  
"Damn," she said, rolling her eyes.  
"What?" Harry asked, looking up, "Aw, bloody hell." But then she noticed something. His gaze wasn't on her. It wasn't angered towards Harry, nor looking down upon Weasley. She followed his harrowing eyes, and they met with Lisette's head.  
She leaned over.  
"Lisette, I'd keep your guard up."  
"Why?" She asked, her eyes instantly seeming confused.  
"You got a stalker," she replied, and Lisette turned around to face this stranger. She was taken aback. His demeanor was eerily intimidating without effort. He was an odd sight to behold, but a handsome one. She recognized him instantly, and crossed her arms in front of herself, smiling coyly.  
"What's a charming thing like you doing in Gryffindor?" He asked, bringing his hand near to her face. The two could feel more than a few eyes on them.  
"Draco Malfoy..." She whispered to him.  
"You a fast learner."  
"Ah, but your reputation preceeds you. Daddy's boy. You come from a wealthy and powerful pureblood family and really don't have to WORK for anything."  
"So far so good."  
"You're not a very moral person as well. Is there anything you don't do?"  
"Who exactly are your friends?" He asked her, his sarcastic grin remaining. "I'd like to think I know enough about myself to realize one thing."  
"Oh, and that is?" She asked, her arms uncrossing as she leaned back on the table. Her shirt was pulled up a bit, and you could see a bit of her thin stomach. She was sly, but on the inside, she couldn't wait for a response.  
"That you're not doing anything of importance tonight."  
"So you think maybe I should come up to your room after dinner, and maybe we can get to know each other a little better? Dream on, Draco," she shot back, and he stood dead still. She licked her lips, and leaned forward so she could be heard by only him.  
  
*******************************  
  
Hermione watched the event unfold, amazed at her new roomate's wit. She was also surprised that neither of them had turned each other into something. Lisette whispered something to Draco, and he smiled slyly, nodding and walking away.  
"What did you say?" She asked, and Lisette said nothing. Herm shrugged, watching Draco walk off, the black cloak emblazoned with the green snake and the "S". She sighed, tired of the past six years of the back and forth battles. Her fork made its way onto her plate.  
"I'm not hungry, anymore, you guys. I'm going to go to the library. I'll see you before bed, okay?" She said, and the two nodded.  
She stood up, and began her tentative steps towards Hogwart's Library.  
  
She opened up a book, entitled "Accentus, Spells to Control Sound". She'd seen it a few months ago while studying for exam, and her eyes ran over the assortment of incantations. Spells to make sounds louder, spells to throw one's voice, spells to change soounds, and she smiled as she saw one. Spells to Mute Sound. You could mute it for all - "Accentus abitere perubique", or just for yourself.  
"Accentus abitere aliquis optare," she read aloud. She'd taken latin, and it roughly mean "Make it silent for the one who wishes." She smiled, and did it with her wand. She was amazed as the world kept going, but every ticking clock, hooting owl, and footstep was silenced. She heard no one flipping the pages of their book, and she snapped. NOTHING. It was beautiful. She shut her eyes, basking in the lovely, almost convent-like quietness, and slowly she slipped into sleep.  
  
She awoke later, in the dark abyss of the library. She could hear now, apparently the spell was not permanent. Her petite feet touched onto the carpet, and made their way back to her room, attempting carefully not to be seen by McGonnagall or any of the other teachers. She was out past curfew. Her body nearly flew into Gryffindor and into her room, and she noticed not only was Lisette's door closed. It was locked. She shrugged and went to bed.  
  
********************************  
  
Hermione awoke to the sound of the shower running in their bathroom. Great, she'd been rooming with a bathroom hog. She began to change, when she suddenly realized something was missing. There were her slacks, her shirt, her - her shoes! She'd taken them off last night when she'd been brushing her teeth, and had left them in the bathroom. Hermione drew in a breath, hoping that Lisette wasn't a modest girl, and pushed open the door to the bathroom. The clear shower door was covered in fog, the large "G" being the only thing that stood out.  
"Hey, I left my shoes in here, so don't freak out," she cautioned, and bent over to grab it. A deep laugh was heard from the bathroom, and a head poked out.  
"Oh, I don't mind," the blonde said, and Hermione screamed.  
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?!" 


	3. Quiet in the Library

Chapter Three  
  
"Will you be quiet? You're gonna wake her up and I need to get back to Slytherin. It's pretty early for you to be up," Draco said, a bead of hot water trickling down his forehead.  
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY SHOWER?!" She commenced to screaming again, and he sighed, turning off the water and stepping out of the shower.  
"You are NOT gonna walk around naked in my-" He stopped her this time, placing a hand over her mouth. The hand was still very hot and damp, and it smelled of Pegasus Mercury - a very expensive type of shampoo found in Hogsmeade. She was very aware of their closeness, as she could feel his breath slide past her cheek and tiny droplets of water hitting her bare feet. He stood before her, as clothed as the day of his birth, hot and wet from head to toe.  
"I am not intending to walk around naked in your suite for long. I gotta dry off, get dressed, then get out of here before she wakes up and I will curse you if you wake her up. You like your hair, Hermione?" He popped his shoulders as if he was arranging an invisible jacket, and shook his hands a bit, removing his hand.  
"Is that a threat?"  
"No....a promise," he said. Draco took a few steps back, and walked out of the bathroom, her eyes following him. He DID have a nice body.  
Draco said a few small words, and the water from his body was instantly dry as he grabbed his boxers off of Lisette's floor.  
"Look....you're not gonna tell anyone I was here, right?"  
"Give me one reason."  
"Because I would get expelled, and your roomate would be brokenhearted. You wouldn't want to ruin a good relationship, would you?"  
"Relationship? Draco, she's an easy lay for you just like three-quarters of this school. You won't talk to her again."  
"Aw, c'mon, you sound a bit jealous, mudblood." He smirked.  
"I will report you."   
"I'm serious. This girl is different. I mean, this is the first excursion out of my room for anything involving my-"  
"Don't even," she said, handing him the cloak she found on the ground near her feet. He smiled, and threw it on. "I owe you one, Granger."  
"Go to Hell."  
  
Hermione got dressed, and was completing a feeble attempt at getting her books together when she heard Lisette waking up. Oh Gosh, she thought, she's gonna be pissed. But instead she heard nothing, just the rustling of the sheets and the sounds of her roomate walking around dazedly. Hermione pushed her door open, and saw Lisette bouncing around, attempting to get on the Gryffindor slacks. She looked up, and smiled.  
"Good morning," she said, smiling and brushing past her to enter the bathroom, and she began to brush her teeth.  
"Lisette, um, can I ask you something?" Hermione asked nervously. Lisette nodded, and mumbled what sounded like "sure" from within the toothpaste.  
"Did Draco stay the night last night?" Lisette turned off the water.  
"What?"  
"Did Draco stay the night?"  
"Why? Did you see him or something?" She asked, spitting, and she turned on the water again.  
"Yeah...he was in the- doorway."  
"Oh, well, yeah. He left before I woke up, though."  
"And that doesn't bother you?"  
"No," she began, "I lived in the muggle world - guys are assholes. And it's not like he took advantage of me. We had fun together. Big deal - maybe it'll happen again, maybe not. Whatever." She pulled her hair into a ponytail, and slid on her cloak. "You comin' to breakfast?" Hermione sighed, leaving the room.  
  
***********************************  
  
"She had a tongue ring?" Crabb asked as Draco smiled, messing with the food on his plate. Something was on his mind. He wasn't hungry. He nodded.  
"Well, does it make it...better?" He asked, and Draco laughed.  
"What on earth do you mean, Crabb?"  
"Um, you know."  
"No, I don't. Could you explain it?" Crabb blushed, and Draco laughed, stating that it did. He looked up to where she sat, and she didn't look at him. He speared his toast. "I want to see her again, you guys?"  
"You want a repeat? That's not your style, Draco."  
"I know. Don't you think I've noticed?" He stated, and began to whisper slowly.  
"Draco, what are you doing?"  
He said, nothing, and continued to whisper the words softly as they ran together. It wasn't English, or Latin, or Parcelmouth. It wasn't a language that anyone near them recognized.  
  
"Natasieth hymiondie tah du begiy, kalahuda giet fari mon degayo."  
  
Goyle sat uneasily. "Draco...what was that?"  
"Nothing you should concern yourself with, Goyle. A Malfoy thing. Why don't you eat? You're gonna need your strength for all walking back to the tower." He stood up, and left the room. Goyle looked toward the girl who Draco had accosted the other day at the meal. She looked up, her eyes looking almost possessed and they seemed to search the Great Hall frantically. But her body did not move.   
"Oh shit," he said, and Crabb answered.  
"What?"  
"He cursed her."  
  
**********************************  
  
Lisette stood up, the colors of the Great Hall mixing insignificantly around her. She suddenly wished for him, wanted him like never before, but he was no where to be found. She felt a hand grab her cloak as she stood up, but she brushed it away as her feet carried her. To where, she didn't know, but her eyes never wandered, as if they had a target her mind did not yet conceive. Her hands hung dazedly, limply at her side as she located her direction being near the library. He was in there, somehow, she knew it. Her entranced legs walked to the Restricted section, her thin fingers tracing over the ancient book covers. And she saw him.  
"Enter Ophelia," he said, standing up and walking to her, his arms wrapping around her as his left hand landed on her hip and his right hand gripped the back of her head as they kissed, her hands sliding into his shirt.   
"I figured the library was a good place to raise some Hell," he said, and removed a cloak from his bag. He threw it over the two of them, and kissed her again.  
  
**********************************  
  
Hermione's eyes rose as Lisette entered the room, and went directly to hers. She had left breakfast abruptly, and had been acting odd and tired in all of her classes. It was now an hour or two before dinner....what was commonly known as study time. Lisette shut her door before Hermione could get a word out, and was alseep before any time had passed significantly. She was puzzled at her roomate's behavior, but thought nothing of it. This mudblood was odd.  
She did look up, however, when the door opened. She expected to see Harry, but was shocked at the man who stood in front of her.   
"Malfoy, get out."  
"Excuse me?"  
"She's been weird all day, and I don't think she wants to see you."  
"Oh, please, she's seen me four or five times today."  
"What?!" She asked, and a wily smile crept across his flawless face. "That's disgusting. No wonder she's been so weird," she replied, and he stood in front of her, stoic and unmoving. After a few seconds of this awkward silence, he walked towards her, and sat down on her bed, putting his hand in her bowl of every-flavor beans, and pulling a couple.  
"What the Hell do you think you're doing?"  
"Eating. Duh." He said, and took a bite, and began violently gagging.  
"Tastes a lot like mucus, you'd be surprised," she said, hiding her smile as he spit in on the ground.  
"Last time I eat with you, Granger."   
"Why are you still here?" She asked, and her tilted his head towards Lisette's doorway. Hermione kicked him. "Get out, please. Your presence annoys me. I can't study."  
"What are you studying?"  
"GET OUT!"  
"Transfiguration, huh?" He asked, smirking and looking around. He sprawled out on her bed, stretching. "Your room doesn't suck. Mine's better, but yours is okay."  
"Draco..." He stopped, and rolled over to face her. His eyes were a sinister, milky blue, and they seemed to churn and stir and the pupils were like black holes, sucking everything in with no mercy.  
"Are you a virgin?"  
"What?"  
"C'mon, answer the question."  
"I don't need to," she said, pulling a few notes out of a black folder and highlighting them. "Besides, what does that have to do with anything?"  
"It has to do with EVERYTHING. Whether or not you've had sex affects what you think about in Dark Arts class to how you tie your shoes."  
"Why is it so important that you know?"  
"Because!"  
"FINE THEN YES!" She said, tossing her folder, and watching Malfoy explode with laughter. "Are you happy, now? My Dark Arts notes are now all over the room because you wanted to know the whereabouts of my virginity!"  
"I just thought that...you and Potter....ya know...."  
"Me and Harry? Ew, no. Just friends."  
"Sure," he said, taking a cigarette out of his pocket. "Mind?"  
"Yes," she said, and took it, breaking it.  
"Hey! You could have just given that back."  
"Why do you smoke? It's bad for your health and terrible for your lungs," she retorted, realizing what she had just said. She had shocked herself.  
"You care about my lungs? I would have thought you'd have cursed them long ago."  
"I don't hex, Malfoy. That seems like quite a family thing for you, though." He looked hurt for a bit, then laughed.   
"Is there anything that you do that IS against school rules?" Draco, asked, sitting up on the sheets and grabbing a bean, examining it very carefully before placing it on his tongue.  
"Um, well, I - nevermind."  
"What?"  
"It's not important." He lowered his eyes, looking at her convincingly.  
"Fine - on full moons, I like to go up to the Astronomy tower and watch the world below me."  
"Why?"  
"It's amazing....there's werewolves and witches fly across the moon and the unicorns run and it's like life exists in triplicate for a few short hours," she said, and felt as if she'd said too much.  
"That's deep, mudblood."  
"You can go now."  
"You'll tell Lisette that I came by?"  
"I will," she answered, and he got up, taking a few beans as he turned to leave.  
"Hey Granger, if you ever wanna watch a full moon from my room, just let me know," he said, and winked. 


	4. Bedtime Stories

Draco awoke that morning, a Sunday, to an empty bed. He hadn't had but a few girls lately, one from Hogwart's and two that he'd met in Hogsmeade on his skipping trips from the classes in which Snape did not teach. He got up, showered, and as he walked back into his room, he was not at all surprised to see his father standing before him. He sighed.  
"You did know that male family members seeing each other naked is illegal in some countries?"  
"I came down here on account of a letter from that dreadful Dumbledore."  
"Its contents?" Draco asked, throwing on a robe.  
"You're failing." Draco looked up at the sentence. Impossible. He was perfect.  
"Sixth Year Charms," he responded, stepping forward. "According to him, you wouldn't know a wand from a wrellindarth."  
"A wrellindarth is a 14th century turn for the toebone of a-" he stopped as quick slap came to his face. He should have known that mouthing off to his father would result in a physical outcome. Most of their fights did. He placed his hand on his face where a sharply pink blister was forming, but he said nothing.  
"I will not have you defacing our good name with your actions. Fornicating with every girl this side of England is tolerable. You're a Malfoy. But abusing your time enough to fail classes and be near suspension because of your truancy is a slap in the face. If you don't sharpen up, Draco, I will punish you within an inch of your life and wed you into a nice little Muggle family that those insipid Weasleys saved this past weekend."  
"Yes, sir, but what of the Bronwyn girl?"  
"I could care less. You've already laid to waste much of the purebloods here I am close to having you sterilized to better serve humanity," he retorted, smiling, "but alas, if I can't have a Death Eater for a son, I might as well get started on the grandchildren. "  
"And why not?"  
"You're weak, Draco. And you're shaping up to be a pathetic waste of your mother's time and effort," he replied, and Draco raised a hand quickly to him, but with a twisting of Lucius' tongue and a few undefined words, he was thrown towards the wall. His forehead hit, and blood startled to trickle down his face through his nose. "Fuck," he muttered, his hands slowly becoming crimson.  
"Stupid boy," he said, Draco charged at him again, but Lucius whipped his cane to his son's face, sending him to the ground. He curled into the fetal position, his head on the hard wooden floor as blood slid out from underneath his face. Words began to flow out from his mouth, muffled and almost gibberish, but Lucius, turned him over violently.  
"You use the language of the family quite well. But not in public....never in public. I expect you to be a better wizard when I return, or I might as well adopt that pathetic Potter. Your mother sends her regards." He said, and vanished. Draco could barely moved. His back hurt immensely and he could not see throught the blood that ran through his eyes. A simple spell would not quell these scars. He ran a shower and quickly got into it, the water turning a crimson red as it neared the drain.  
  
***************************  
  
------"He hasn't come to see me at all?" Lisette asked Hermione.  
"I'm sorry, Lis, but other than that one day, no," she replied. She had left out that he had made a pass at her, that would have been to much.  
"Asshole. And after all of the sick, disgusting shit I did for him."  
"Lisette, please-"  
"You did know that that little pervert has a chocolate fetish. A WEIRD chocolate fetish, you wouldn't believe the revolting shit this kid can do with chocolate."  
"I don't care!" Hermione said, slamming her door on her. Dealing with her roomate's fiascos with Draco had been hard. The two made the oddest noises. She threw herself back on her bed, and she began humming. She did not hear the door open. Her eyes were closed, and only then did they flash open when she felt her bed move. Draco was on top of her, his lips near her cheek. "You want me, don't you?" He asked.-----  
  
Hermione sat up in bed, sublimely puzzled and alarmed. No one was in her room, thank God, and she breathed heavily as she realized where the voice had come from. Lisette's voice cried out in her room in a decadent manner as the quick, syncopated thudding was heard. A lower moan came, and she covered her ears, and grabbed her wand. "Accentus abitere aliquis optare." The room got quiet, and she sighed in relief. A few sips were taken out of the water by her side, and she laid back down.   
  
She awoke a few hours later to silence. Not artificial, magic silence, but true silence, as the wind could be heard moving the leaves of the trees outside, and the light, flipping of pages in a book. She was suddenly aware of another presence in the room. She grabbed her wand, and pointed it at the boy by her bed, who was flipping the pages in her diary."You're walking on eggshells, Malfoy. Get out," she said, the wand at his face. He put the diary down.   
"Okay, calm down. Your roomate crashed and I got bored." He stood up, and began to walk away. "I never knew you muggle-borns had such tempers." Hermione almost flew out of her bed at him, nearly knocking him to the ground, but he retaliated, and grabbed her arms, spinning her around until his head was in the circular cradle of her neck. She spun towards him, and he lost his grip on her, and she slapped him. He jumped towards her, which sent the two flying onto her bed. She laid beneath him, the two of them rather winded, and he had her hands pinned down. His face was very close to hers, and he ran his nose over her cheek, breathing her in.   
"My, how the tables have turned." He whispered to her, holding none of his body back from her. She could feel each individual inch of his body pressed against hers through her thin nightgown. She was scared.  
"Draco-"  
"You want me, don't you?" He asked, smirking. She felt her heart drop to her knees.  
"I don't understand, but just don't-"  
"Oh, don't get full of yourself. Malfoy's don't need to rape people. Just answer the question."  
"Why? Why you? Why would I want you?"  
"Because I'm the one thing those two little pansy friends of yours hate. Because you're tired of being the perfect little paradigm of perfection, and you just want somebody in your panties so bad you could taste it. You want me, because that would be the opposite of everything you've ever done."  
She looked at him, his eyes feirce and demanding, yet she knew that if she told him to go, he would leave without a word. What scared her more was his words, what he had said, and what would happen if she agreed. Harry and Ron would definitely have a thing or two to say. She could feel him against her, blood rushing and pulsing, and his hand left hers, traveling down her arm, and to her shoulder. A single finger traced up her neck, and landed on her lips.   
"You can't say you don't want this."  
"You need to go, Draco." She said, and he left her there, exiting the room. She began to breath normally, holding back her tears. The boy was quite persuasive, and she'd been insanely close to giving herself up to him, and becoming his puppet. She knew she would have done anything, and everything if he'd asked her to. She was suddenly nauseous, and got up, running to the bathroom.  
  
********************************  
  
"You alright, Herm?" Harry asked, as she stared at her eggs. She was still haunted by last night's activities, and was not hungry at all. The site of eggs nearly made her sick.  
"Yeah, babe, I heard you getting sick last night," Lisette said, not looking toward the Slytherin table where Draco intently watched the two.  
"Did something happen, Hermione?"  
"No! Nothing happened!" She nearly yelled, slamming her fork down on the table. She felt sick again, and got up, fleeing for the bathroom. Harry got up and ran after her, ignoring the points that would be inevitably deducted from Gryffindor when he entered the girls' bathroom. He knocked on the only occupied stall.  
"GO AWAY!"  
"What happened, Herm?" He asked, listening to her tiny sniffles.  
"Nothing."  
"Bull," he replied, and the door opened.  
"Draco and Lisette have been having sex incessantly for the past month, and last night, Draco tried to get me to sleep with him." She burst into tears, and he hugged her, allowing her tears to dampen his shoulder. She had always been a bit of a drama queen, but it was best to humor her.  
"Sh...I'll handle it."  
  
Draco awaited his turn to perform the seeker duties as the Slytherin team practiced. The captain, Boris Pfaltzgraff was training the two Beaters, and Draco dazedly sat, sweating on the bleachers. He looked over to see that insipid Potter and his vagrant red-headed friend heading toward him. He stood up and dusted himself off.  
"Don't get outta hand, Draco," Boris yelled down to him as Draco waved him off.  
"What do you want, Potter?"  
"What did you do to Hermione?" The Boy-Who-Lived asked him, and he smirked.  
"I don't know what you're talking about, now her roomate-"  
"Quit your lying, Draco!" Ron said, stepping forward, and Draco patted his head.  
"You wanna know what I did to your little valedictorian? Nothing. Okay? God knows I tried, but she's a virgin which makes her harder to get into than the Triwizard."  
"How dare you!" Harry stepped forward, and Draco stepped nearer to him, their noses almost touching. Now, even the Beaters and the rest of the Slytherin's were watching.  
"What's the matter, Potter? Afraid I'll shag the mudblood BITCH before you do?"  
Harry couldn't take it, he removed his wand from his cloak and held it in the air for a split second.   
"Corpus movere!" He said, and Draco began whispering. The spell hit Draco, but suddenly shot back at Harry, and he was lifted in the air, and began shaking violently.   
"You need to learn to sheild, Potter," Draco said, and walked off.  
  
*******************************  
  
He'd do it. Voldemort as his witness, he would shag the mudblood before Harry Potter did. Before Ron did. That girl would be his conquest even if he had to- he smirked. The end justifies the means. 


	5. Nine Days Later

Chapter Five: Wednesday Summons & Friday Predictions (or Nine Days Later)  
  
Draco sighed as the snow began to fall. Lisette's visits were beginning to tire him. Her catatonic lust had grown weary and repetitive, and he longed for something different. He hadn't been with anyone but her, under almost the Imperius Curse, in what seemed to be months.  
  
Christmas had come and gone. He had visited his family and gone skiing. He had helped his father slaughter a few muggle-borns here and there, but all in good Death Eater fun. He took another drag on his cigarette as he watched the fog creep in on the  
  
Hogwarts grounds. It encircled a large fountain statue of Salazar Slytherin, who held up a cobra in his stone hand whose cement fangs poured forth green water, that had become a crystalized gel in the cold temperatures. Draco tried, but he could  
  
not remember a time at which the fountain had ever run with just colored water.   
  
He wondered how far down it was. The castle walls ran incredibly high, and he'd never been able to keep straight how many floors up he was, as the stairs consistently switched, but somehow always landed on his room floor. The cigarette dropped  
  
from his mouth and fell for what seemed to be forever. He followed it down the wall, bumping a gargoyle or two.  
  
Draco jumped as suddenly, a loud knock on his door caused the room to thunder. He hoped it was either Crabbe or Goyle with the roots. When they were in their fourth year, while Harry had been battling dragons at the Triwizard, the three of them  
  
had been off in the school greenhouse mulling through the different plants when they'd discovered Ilcabar. A fabulous plant, in Draco's opinion. It was nearly seventeen feet high, and had leaves bigger than his head. The roots however, when ground up  
  
and smoked, were one of the most uplifting and magical things he'd experienced. Crabbe had taken to selling it, but Draco got it for free.   
  
"What do you want?" he barked at the door. However, neither Crabbe or Goyle's voice answered back. Snape.  
  
"Are you decent, Mr. Malfoy?" Draco looked around and grabbed his black Slytherin robe and bid Severus to come in. Snape entered in a speedy flourish as always, his eyes searching the room suspiciously.  
  
"Anything I can do for you, Professor?"  
  
"Yes, Malfoy. Get dressed and pack your things. Your father has requested you come home for the weekend. Now." Draco was immediately taken aback. His father was not so impulsive. Anything unplanned came along with a quick fist and a long, drawn  
  
out ordeal from his mother. He furrowed his eyebrows, not believing Snape. Someone was up to something and he would certainly NOT pack.  
  
"It's only Wednesday, Professor and I don't-"  
  
"I do not jest, Draco. He seems to be adamant and quite serious. He insists that you get on the first train home - immediately."  
  
Draco sighed, and pulled out his trunk.  
  
**************************  
  
Hermione stepped into class, smiling brightly as she plopped down next to Harry and Ron.  
  
"Well, 'Mione, you're looking right chipper this morning." Harry said, moving over so she could fit in better at the desk.  
  
"Yeah, well I just figured out how to finally get that Domatomus spell. I couldn't get my iguana to behave." Ron laughed, and the three of them got quiet when Snape entered the room in a huff.  
  
"Has anyone seen Malfoy?"   
  
Everyone's attention turned to the empty seat next to Goyle. Goyle shrugged, his telltale bloodshot eyes giving his ignoranceaway.  
  
"He went home early last week and hasn't been back, Professor," Pansy Parkinson explained, twirling a pencil in her hair. Snape sighed, and muttered something vulgar yet incoherent, and continued on with his lesson.  
  
"Where do you think he could be?" Parvati asked behind the three. Harry turned around.   
  
"Who cares?"  
  
"Yeah, I hope its something serious. Hippogriff pox, maybe?" Ron retorted, and they chuckled.  
  
Within an hour and a half, class was over, and the three made their way to lunch. They noticed Professor Trelawney talking quickly with McGonnagal as Filch stood closely by. Hermione slowed down, along with the three - to get a good listen.  
  
"And you have no idea where they're coming from?" Trelawney asked, overdramatic as always. Filch shook his disgruntled head.  
  
"No idea - no idea at all. Just bottles and bottles building up by that damned Tower. Searched around and around for the bloody culprits. It's those Weasleys, I know it is." McGonnagal rolled her eyes at the statement. Fred and George had   
  
graduated last year, and Filch still kept blaming them for nearly all mishaps.  
  
"Apparently, Sybil, there have been an irregular number of liquor bottles building up at the bottom of the Astronomy tower," McGonnagal stated. "There are normally hoodlums about that place, what with its equipment being so valuable. And aside from   
  
the alcohol - dreadful Muggle creation - we're more worried about someone falling while intoxicated or becoming injured." Professor Trelawney nodded thoughtfully, her coke-bottle glasses looking as if they were about to slide off her face. "Have   
  
you seen anyone near it lately?"  
  
"No, but I have felt a presence. Turbulent and dark." Hermione, Ron, and Harry all rolled their eyes at the Professor's often melancholy predictions. "There is a dark spirit above it, and I too soon think it will reveal itself to someone most  
  
unprepared for it."   
  
Hermione laughed, and when Filch, McGonnagal, and Trelawney looked up, the three of them dashed away.   
  
Harry was almost doubling over once they reached the Gryffindor Tower.  
  
"A bunch of bollocks, that is. A dark presence hovering over the tower? Please. No one ever goes up to that stupid tower  
  
except her when she takes Parvati and Lavender to do stupid charts!"   
  
"I go," Hermioned chimed in, and Harry nodded.   
  
"Yeah, yeah - hey, isn't tonight a full moon?"  
  
"Oh yeah. You two are going to be fine without me, right?" She asked, pushing back a bit of wavy hair as the wind picked up.The three of them had planned to do their Apparations homework together, but she was determined to keep up her custom. Harry  
  
nodded. The sun was starting to set anyway.  
  
Hermione took off on her own, with her books. She couldn't wait until nightfall, when the unicorns and werewolfs roamed the grounds. Even the impending rainclouds rolling in didn't dampen her spirits. She quickly ran up to her room, cried out the  
  
password to the Fat Lady, and tosssed her things onto her bed before running again to the tower. Rain had begun to splash itself against the castle, and because everyone had come inside, her trip to her secret place had become much more perilous  
  
with the prospect of being caught.  
  
It was Friday. Apparently, Malfoy had left the previous Wednesday, but no one had thought anything of it when he missed the next two days of school. Early vacation, the students speculated. But his failure to return on Monday, or Tuesday, or any  
  
of the subsequent days had bothered many. Not Hermione, Ron, and Harry however, who were quite glad to be rid of him. Harry and Ron were planning to finish their Apparations homework and go home for the weekend. The Chudley Cannons were  
  
playing in a stadium near the Burrow, and Harry was invited. Hermione was also, but had Charms homework to tend to. She and only a handful of students were staying for the Easter weekend.  
  
She asserted herself before the window, and watched the rain fall, creating quite a wet world beneath it. She was entralled by its chaotic beauty. It was everything her life wasn't and she drank it all in. That is, until she heard a glass bottle   
  
clink against the Tower windows, and she looked up to see a dark figure above her. 


	6. Mudbloods in the Tower

Hermione raised her gaze to settle upon the menacing figure that rested on the glass above her. Rain had begun to drive hard on the world that surrounded the tower, and she stared - quite intensely at whatever was there. It was black, and moved, ever so slowly and unpredictably. She was unable to look away, and soon, in the thunderous rain that clapped violently against the glass, Hermione stepped up onto a set of stairs and pushed open the tiny glass window that allowed one to stick their head out.  
  
She was immediately soaked, and she looked towards the figure, and was actually quite surprised by who she saw. In her heart, she had been half-expected a Dementor or something so sinister that she would die. But all that sat there was a drenched, almost inhuman-looking Draco Malfoy.  
  
He was different somehow, sitting on top of the wet glass. He looked shriveled inside, as if some insane creature had crawled inside of his heart and had begun to feast. He was sallow, and had dark, red circles under his eyes. He was tired, and slightly pink on the cheeks and forehead and nose as if someone had dosed him with a Sunburn Charm. He seemed slightly skinnier now, and he didn't look towards the newly opened window, but just stared out across the woods before him, letting the rain fall and sting his raw skin.   
  
"What on Earth are you doing?" She asked, yelling slightly to be heard over the rain, and she couldn't tell if she had startled him. He jumped sluggishly and turned to face her, as if he was shocked that someone had intruded on his hideout, but his current condition wouldn't let him react so swiftly. He stared her down, his deep blue silver eyes seeming to jump off of his pale and splotched pink face as the rain drove down his skin and pressed his hair into his scalp.  
  
"Hey Granger. I'm just up here relaxing." He was drunk. Looking away, he laid back onto the glass. Hermione sighed, and couldn't believe that she was about to ask him to come in. But, however, if he didn't and slipped and fell, she would have to go report it and then (obviously) everyone would suspect her. She hated him.  
  
"Draco, come inside." He titled his head to face her.   
  
"No, I think I'll stay. I'd been waiting for a good rain," he said, shutting his eyes and ceasing his breaths for a moment or two. then continued, "I figured that I'd get up in go inside. Maybe I'd slip and fall."  
  
"Look," she began, realizing how his robe seemed to hang on him now like a death shroud, "if you are going to kill yourself, you really should not jump or slip from the Astronomy tower." God, he looked extra shitty. "Everyone who has ever tried to commit," she paused, the world getting stuck on her tongue, "suicide... has always jumped from the Tower. It's so trite."  
  
Draco nodded, and moved languidly towards her as she stepped back to the furthest corner of the room. He came in, and tossed away his soaked Slytherin robe. The two stood in the room, the window still open, and the rain fell in, onto telescopes and celestial sphere models.  
  
"Ceredus," Hermione whispered, pointing her wand at the window, and it slammed shut. Malfoy looked around for a bit, dazed, and decided on sitting on an overstuffed couch, staring mindlessly at a long desk. Try as she may (and definitely wanted to,) Hermione could not stop looking at it. It was as if a zombie had cracked Draco open, thrown out the whiny, snotty, daddy-devoted prat and was just sitting inside him. She snapped, and he, inebreated as he was, looked up at her.  
  
"Sorry." He muttered, laying his damp head back onto the couch.  
  
"What has happened to you, Draco? I mean, call me crazy, but shouldn't you be spitting on me or trying to shag someone at this particular moment?" He shook his head. "Where have you been? Snape says you have not been around since you left Wednesday, and althought I know you don't care about your schoolwork, it is just completely odd for you not to be out terrorizing your minions like some aspiring Death Eater." He once again shook his head. This was frustrating. In her life, she'd wanted to know everything, and this strung-out curiosity was killing her. He wasn't playfully keeping information from her. It almost came across as if he wanted to speak, but was mute, or too drunk or confused to put it into words.  
  
"You want to tell me what is going on or will I have to go fetch Snape?" These words seemed to garner his attention. He looked up, albeit leadenly, to her, and shook his head.  
  
"No, no, don't go get Snape. I can't really - I just, I don't wanna see him right now. That look of so much fucking approval and pride in his eyes when he hasn't done shit about anything. I don't need it." He stared back at the ground, and Hermione furrowed her slightly unplucked eyebrows. Draco not demanding pride AND attention?  
  
"I'm confused." She spat out, which was a rather unused phrase of hers. Draco stood, and walked closer to her. She was frightened, and took a step back, her back hitting a wall. Each step brought him closer and closer and closer and bloody closer until she could practically smell him. It wasn't a nice smell, mind you. He smelt like he had been caught at the bad end of a Blast-Ended Skrewt. She held her breath, but as she stared him down, she noticed. His eyes were not red from crying or rain or sun. They were blackened. His lip had a cut running down it, and there were a few bruises along his face and neck. He'd had the shit beaten out of him - and not recently. The injuries were a few days - even a week old. He backed off and sat on the desk. He ruffled his hair and glanced towards her, the rain still the only sound that consumed the room. Hermione wondered what time it was, and if the students had been ordered to bed yet. She didn't want to get caught up here alone with a wet, putrid, and obviously slapped-about Draco.   
  
He took in a deep breath, seeming very verbal, and spoke - finally.   
  
"My father hates me." He spoke finally, his voice sounding oddly taut. Hermione rolled her eyes. She did not need to tolerate this my-life-is-so-hard-woe-is-me kind of talk from the richest, most powerful wizarding heir this side of Platform 9¾.   
  
"Draco, do not be such a git, your father does not hate you. If anything he loves you - too much. You get everything you want." He shook his head.  
  
"God, stupid muggle-born twit," he looked down, then back up at her. "It's not even about that anymore. I always thought that it was like that. I just got knocked around because he wanted me to succeed, you know? Be a Death-Eater like he was and my brothers will be and all that shite. But this weekend. He hates me. He hates me like he hates you. Like he hates the Weasleys, like he hates that insipid Potter and like he hates... my mother." Hermione slid herself down onto the couch that he had previously occupied. Draco continued. "I got home on Wednesday and my house was fucking circus. My father had sent my brothers off to live with my gran because they're still little, and it was just him and my mother and I swear it was so obvious they wanted to kill each other. I was just fucking stuck there. He even killed two house-elves before my eyes. It was just insane.   
  
"He told me to sit down, and then he said that he'd called into question my mum. Specifically because my brothers look nothing like him. It was sort of something no one at my house had ever mentioned but we all just ignored it and let everyone get on with their lives." He sniffled. "And we were just sitting there, waiting for the results. He told me he'd needed me there to be a witness in case my mother turned out to be a harlot.  
  
"The results came, Granger. They came and it was so fucked up. They weren't my father's sons. They weren't related to him at all. He just lost it and started just kicking the shit out of her and tossing her around the room with spells and his own power. I couldn't do anything. I tried to stop him and he just punched the fuck out of me. Busted my lip. But next," he paused sighing a few interjections before he continued, "next was even worse. She'd slept with a Muggle. Which was why my father had reacted how he did. But even with my mother, the boys were only - they were only a quarter wizard." Hermione calculated that in her head. It didn't work out at all. Draco's family claimed to be pureblood. "She'd lied to him. My own mother, had lied to my father about her lineage. Her mother - her mother was a Muggle. Which means, I'm-" he choked himself back, now, looking away from Hermione as his voice broke, and he broke down. "I'm a fucking mudblood. She lied and told him she was completely pure, and he married her and had me and now I'm a quarter Muggle!" He stood up, feeling this words, spoken for the first time, leave his mouth. He paced, and soon tossed a telescope across the room. It shattered.  
  
  
  
"I couldn't stand it. Me - a fucking Malfoy. I am.. a Malfoy." He took in a deep breath, "It was just so bad. My father didn't know what to do. I could see it in his face. It was either forgive my mother, betray his fellow Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself. Or do what he's been doing since he was a teenager. He didn't what what to do, but he just...." He pause again, and looked away from Granger towards the Speechoscript Blackboard. The chalk had been writing his every word. He jerked his head away from the tale, and back at her.  
  
  
  
"I watched him... kill my mother. He wouldn't let me leave and I wanted to leave but he would let me. He could have just hit her with the Killing Curse and ended it there, but that wasn't enough. He ran into the kitchen and tossed one of the house-elves aside and got this giant steak knife. He slit her throat and her wrists, and made me help him collect all of her impure blood. He kept this up until she wasn't even my mother. She was this ghost-white, blue eyed bloodless... shell. Her mouth was just hanging open, as were her eyes and at one point I swear she was looking right at me. But I couldn't get away. He wouldn't let me. Then he did what was customary after killing a traitorous mudblood.  
  
"He carried the bowl and jars of her blood into the kitchen and had each one boiled - to clean it. To clean it until it was pure. Then he called my gran and told her to send the boys home. He sent me out for spices." He stopped activity altogether now, and began to acknowledge his own stench and ill appearance. Draco now seemed to want to cover himself up. Hermione sat up, having heard only half of the story. She ached to know more. She HAD to know more, but could not make a sound to prod him on. Now, if she made so much as a peep, the mood would be forever broken, and he would not go on. "I got back. We had what looked like steak for dinner. But I knew what it was. I couldn't say anything, but I just said I wasn't hungry. Lucius got up from the chair across the table and threw me, and he put a knife to my neck. Told me to eat all I could or I would be next. So I ate, and spent the whole night throwing up. He has killed everyone I thought I knew. But he's my FATHER. My father. You understand?" Hermione nodded. "He sent me back Monday."  
  
Hermione finally spoke, standing up to face Draco, who backed away from her in a sort of worried wary.  
  
"How long have you been up there, Draco? Up on the tower?" She asked, and he sighed.  
  
"I tried to go to class on Monday. I got ready and all of that, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. So I came here and went on the ledge, but I couldn't bring myself to jump. I just sat there. I've just been sitting there for five days."  
  
"You haven't eaten or showered?" He shook his head, and she drew in a deep breath, amazed at what she was about to do. "If you want, I'll let you take a shower in the prefects' bathroom. My treat. And I'll go get you some food from the kitchen. Just... just come inside the castle. But after this, I don't want to see you again, okay?" He agreed, and followed her out of the tower. 


	7. The Drug Induced Prick and the Mudblood ...

The Drug-Induced Prick and the Mudblood Bitch  
  
*****  
  
Hermione was laying on her bed, the image of the torn and tormented Draco playing over and over in her mind. How he walked around the tower, confused and befuddled, like he wasn't quite sure where he was. But he had just poured out his heart and soul to Hermione there in that tower and now he was away in the prefects' bathroom, no doubt lost in a swirl of perfumed pink and purple bubbles.  
  
She had not quite realized how alone they were in the castle. There was barely any sound as only a few teachers - house heads and Dumbledore - had agreed to stay the Easter weekend. Hermione's parents were on their way to some ADA convention (why her British family was asked to attend the American Dental Associations meeting, she could never quite figure out. 'Ambassadors' they had said.) and Ron and Harry were spending the weekend with the Weasleys, who were having a dragon egg hunt.   
  
The door to her room opened and Draco entered, wet and steaming from head to toe. The lines of dried blood and caked dirt and sweat were gone, along with his odor. His bruises and scratches still remained however.  
  
"By the way, the Slytherin Prefect bathrooms are nicer than that." He looked up at her, and didn't smile as he pulled the Gryffindor robe tighter, pushing his fingers into his scalp and running them back along his white-blonde hair. She watched him as he looked around for his clothes.  
  
"Some house-elves knocked on my door and asked me if I needed anything done."  
  
"Couldn't we just clean them with magic?"  
  
"Ah, they wanted to. They came in and we chatted and everything."  
  
"House-elves do that? I thought they weren't supposed to be seen."  
  
"They talk to me occasionally. Ever since... nevermind - oh well, I gave them your clothes so they could wash them. I told them they didn't REALLY need to, but they just skipped off. I could conjure up some more for you if you really want them." He shook his head and walked closer to her, still wary. "Relax, Malfoy, you're no longer on eggshells."  
  
"I'm not frightened by you. I just... I have a question, Granger."  
  
"Well go ahead."  
  
"How do you do this? How do you do it everyday? I still feel disgusting. Knowing what's coursing through my veins right now. It's sickening."  
  
"Draco, it is not sickening. I do not care because what's in my blood is not who I am. It's... it is what is inside ME. I do it everyday because I am not ashamed of it."  
  
"I can't. I tried, but I can't stop thinking about it." He plopped himself down on her bed now, and put his head in his hands. "I just want something to take my mind off of it. I've sobered up now and I want to get drunk. I want to get high. I want to get laid. I want to get anything that will make me forget."  
  
"I don't know what to say," she said, pulling her knees up to her chest as he looked at her. There was a tense desperation in his eyes and he seemed now to stare at her in a different way. It made her uncomfortable. "What do you want, Malfoy?"  
  
"To say thanks, and to tell you.... I need you. I need you to make me forget."  
  
"No."  
  
"Please, Hermione, please. You're one of the only girls here that doesn't now hate me. You did, and you should have let me fall from that tower but you did it and I want... I want you. I need you."  
  
*****  
  
Hermione awoke, in the night, her body hot underneath the sheets and she sat up, suddenly finding herself in cold sweat. Her fast and hard breathing echoed through the silent room as she looked toward her clock. Her clock was sleeping, and she flicked her wand at it. He grimaced, and snored- "It's three a.m. on a Saturday."  
  
She took a deep cleansing breath. Had it all been a dream? Maybe she had just dozed off in the Tower and sleepwalked back to her bed. Draco was probably just out on a nine day drug binge. She moved to exit the bed and suddenly felt a hard, seering pinch in her abdomen and thigh muscles.   
  
"Ow," she gasped, looking around.  
  
"Mmph, what?" A groggy voice next to her came. She sat bolt-upright and looked to her right. Draco slept on his stomach, his face upturned to her. She suddenly felt overcome with sickness, and jumped up from the bed. She screamed. Finding herself in bed with Draco was horrible enough, but to suddenly be seen naked by him was too much. She had such vivid memories.   
  
Memories of flesh and pain and sweat and noise plagued her mind as she raced for the lavatory. She could recall being felt as if she was being ripped apart from the inside out, but being brought together in one resounding CLAP as she and Draco had become intertwined in each other in the bed. Her stomach moved and grumbled angrily with the recollection of her own screams that she had directed passionately at the ceiling as Draco had held her tight to his chest, his legs crossed indian style, his rough heels digging into her ass. She threw up as she remembered how he'd traced every inch of her with every inch of him.  
  
She'd kissed him with an insane fury, the kind that she'd never devoted to Viktor, or the one awkward kiss that she and Ron had shared. It was odd on both parts. There was an almost angry aspect to it, like they'd both wanted to out-do each other. They'd fucked each other with a sort of reckless abandon that Hermione herself felt ashamed of now.  
  
What would her mother think?  
  
As if sensing her most intimate thoughts, as her heartbeat like a chorus of pixie-wings, Hermione snapped to attention as there was a sudden pounding on her lavatory door.  
  
"Hermione, what are you doing in there?"  
  
  
  
Her head shot back up and she looked at the door. 'SHIT SHIT SHIT!' Her mind screamed at her. If Professor McGonnagal found out that not only had she had a boy in her room after hours, but that she'd had sex with him, she would be expelled for sure! She grabbed her wand and muttered the spell to brush her teeth, and looked around hurriedly for the Gryffindor prefect bath robe and put it on, opening the door quickly.  
  
"What the fuck is wrong with-" began Draco, but before he could finish, she interrupted him vehemently.  
  
"Did you curse me?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Did you curse me? Hm? Was it the Imperius, or some weird messed up jinx I do not even know about?!" He stared at her as these words burst forth from her mouth. For a split second, he almost looked hurt, but the pain faded away to an almost satisfied smirk. He squinted his blackened eyes as his mouth contorted into the evil smile Hermione had seen many times before.  
  
"You're embarrased!" He said, taking a step closer to her. Hermione stepped back, away from his nude form. Bruises covered the full length of his body, save for the dark pink skull and snake tattoo that was on his forearm. She stared at it - the mark of a Death Eater. Or an ex Death Eater, anyway, if her memories were true.  
  
"Embarrased for what? That some sick demented pretty boy managed to spell me into losing my well-maintained virginity?"  
  
"Well I'll give you one thing Granger, it WAS pretty well-maintained. It was like trying to push a Quaffle into one of Snape's little potion vials. But no, I didn't use any spells on you. You fucked me by your own choice."  
  
"Oh, I fucked you, is that how it happened?!" She said, brushing past him and storming into the bedroom. She took a quick glance at her bedsheets and was horrified to see it covered with little spots of blood everywhere. "Oh my goodness," she said, and turned away, but soon found her wand. "Scourgify." She said, and soon they were clean. She turned to face him. "Is it true? Is everything you told me last night true or did you just want to fuck me?!"  
  
Draco looked down, then away.   
  
"I can pump you full of Veritaserum if I want to know."  
  
"Of course it's true, Granger, for God's sake - why would I make up some sick shit like that? If I wanted to get into your panties all I would have to do is curse you with Haulytommof. It's quite powerful."  
  
"What on earth is Haulytommof?"  
  
"The language of my family - the Malfoys. Passed down for centuries. It's not in any book, Granger, so don't bother looking it up or asking Dumbledore. I only speak it to my... father when no one's around."  
  
"Got any more secrets, Malfoy?" Hermione barked, slightly alarmed at how loud she was. "Because if you do than you should probably get out, you dickless drug-induced half-breeded little prick!"  
  
"Mudblood bitch! How dare you call me dickless!"  
  
"Well, it's nearly true!"  
  
"Bullshit!" Malfoy screamed at the top of his lungs, and for a second, Hermione actually thought that he was charging at her to hit her, but it was when she suddenly felt his hands on her bare ass that her expectations of facial assault subsided.   
  
He practically ran with her, slamming her robed body up against the maroon walls as he drove himself into her. She screamed again, but this time it was different - deeper and less desperate for release. Draco's hands remained, one now on the small of her back and the other one propped up next to her as he pressed his forehead into the wall, sucking and biting the skin on her neck as her hands found their way behind his head. She gripped his neck and shoulderblades. He thrusted into her as an odd, pursed shrieking squeak escaped her mouth and she brought his lips to hers, kissing him if only to shut herself up.  
  
"Ow...ah, shit." She sighed, somewhat surprised that she had cursed, but as Malfoy continued to move inside of her, she was unable to control herself. The feverish kiss came to a halt as Draco pulled away from her to look her directly in the eyes. It made her feel uncomfortable again - he was looking at her as he had earlier, and the intensity of what they were doing was coming to mind as Hermione suddenly yelped again, titling her head up and biting her bottom lip as Draco ran his tongue up her neck along the soft skin to her chin, where he then proceeded to kiss her face again.  
  
"My legs are getting tired," Draco moaned breathlessly, "ah, fuck it." He said and, still holding her against him, he made his way to her bed, whose cleanliness was once again about to be destroyed. Malfoy practically threw her onto the mattress, where she laughed half-heartedly and he climbed over her. But she was taken aback when he did not get right to the point. He stared at her, out of breath, and kissed her as he slid his pampered fingers over the silk lining of her bathrobe. He opened it by simply sliding a finger along the front, and pulling the sash away. His eyes crept like a theif over her nude form, and he kissed her chest as she sighed exasperatedly.  
  
"We need to finish this up," she said, forgetting that it was now only three-thirty in the morning. He smiled, and kissed her, thrusting slowly again into her still taut form as she moved her nude feet up his legs. Soon, he was as deep into her as she thought was possible, moving and causing every inch of her to shreik with both pain and delight. Hermione's thighs now pressed against his hips, and he was slowly creating a crescendo. He was now getting a bit rougher and faster, not being so delicate with her, as he gripped her hands now and a low syncopating moan came from him as she felt everything inside her vibrating at a million times normal.  
  
Her fingertips, toes, and lips burned and ached as all feeling seemed to be draining from the world around her and her ends, and traveling to the deepest most inner parts inside her. She came suddenly, yelling and momentarily going quite as she suffered a cataclysmic rush of stimulation. It reminded her of a summer spent on a beach, where she had stood, and the most powerful wave she had ever seen had collided with her then tiny form, and knocked her over, pulling her underneath it and holding her there for so long she nearly drowned. But now, she stared as the ceiling as Draco soon came the same, and placed his head between her breasts.  
  
"Did I hurt you?" He asked, his breathing almost louder than the words. She nodded, smirking and kissed him again. The clock on the wall read four. 


	8. Purple Haze and the Roster

Chapter Eight: Purple Haze and the Roster  
  
Hermione woke up around one in the afternoon, after another nine hours of obviously much needed sleep. The air in her room was breezy, flowing in an out of the small window. It cascaded over her bedsheets, and moved a few strands of hair. She looked to her bedside, and saw her wand. It was an odd feeling, knowing that right now the shower was running and Draco - the archenemy of her best friend - was in there right now. She didn't know why she was doing these things. It was incredibly out of her normal frame of activity, and Harry wouldn't forgive her. Ron definitely wouldn't. She reached underneath her bed and pulled out her 6th year Transfiguration book and began reading. It had always helped calm her nerves.  
  
HOW TO TRANSFIGURE AN ANIMAL OF STENCH INTO A BOQUET  
  
She laughed, imagining Neville's lack of skill. No doubt he would create a boquet of black and white roses with skunk's tails that made everyone in the room want to wretch to the high heavens. The shower shut off, and she didn't look up. It was only when the book suddenly flew out of her hands and out the open window that she jerked her head up to face Malfoy.  
  
"Wingardium Leviosa," he said, smirking as he tossed his wand aside and scrubbed his again-damp hair.  
  
"You tend to be wet a lot, Draco." She said, not realizing the connotation of what she'd just said.  
  
"I could say the same for you. Holy hell, Hermione, you have some wicked hickeys!"  
  
"That's so... you!" She said, exasperated, and tossed herself back into her pillow, realizing how much study time she was wasting.  
  
"And studying after you've no doubt had the best damn night of your life. That's you, Granger," he spat, stuffily and laid down next to her, his hair dampening the pillow. She turned to face him, and suddenly he was upon her for a third time, kissing her. He smelled once again like expensive high-class Wizard shampoo - his hair shining unnaturally blonde.  
  
"I have a question," she said between his kisses as she pushed his shoulder away. He, sensing the impending seriousness of the following conversation, rolled his eyes and sat up.  
  
"Accio pants!" He said after grabbing his wand back. All the way from Slytherin hall, which was no doubt a surprise for the few left-over students walking the halls, Draco's pants flew up into the Gryffindor Girls Grand-Prefect room. He slid them on, and looked at her. "Yeah?"  
  
"This is all gonna stop on Monday, isn't it?" She asked, picking up a shirt from beside her.  
  
"Well, yeah, of course. I mean, after the shit that hit the royal Malfoy fan this weekend, I am skating on a peice of ice this thin," he held up two fingers, almost touching "over the Hogwarts lake."  
  
"What is your father going to do?"  
  
"Ah, he's got a few of his Death Eater buddies parading around pretending to be these hoity-toidy officials so know one knows he's out of Azkaban. He's even paying someone to keep taking the Poly...thingy to impersonate him. He had a guy pretend to be Snape just to pick me up. Anyway, he says I'm not supposed to do anything out of the ordinary lest someone be tippoed off about our family's dishonor. I am, of course, to work my ass off, pass, be Head Boy, be a Death Eater, marry a pureblood and 'keep my fucking mudblood trap shut.'"  
  
"And if you don't?"  
  
"Then I go the way of my mom and brothers and my dad gets remarried. If he even knew what I was doing right now, it'd be hardcore wrist-slittin' time."  
  
"Why don't you just leave him?"  
  
"Don't be thick, Granger. Where would I go? To live with you and your bloody Muggle parents? Or with the Weasleys and I can sleep on one of their second-hand dead owls? I don't think so. I'll deal with my own personal evils, thank you."   
  
"You're a prick, you know that?"  
  
"Yes, yes I do," he said, and sat up on the bed. As he did so, a sudden and very familiar crinkling of plastic was heard. His head popped up and his eyes suddenly went wide. For the first time in nine days, when he hadn't been coming, Draco felt happy. "Ohshitohshitohshit!" He whispered, immediately jumping off of Hermione's bed in a type of gleeful dance. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. Inside was a few clumps of a bluish-purple thing that looked not unlike some Oregano spices that Hermione's mother cooked with over the summer. "Oh yeah... oh yeah," he began to sing, and began to do a stupid, uncoordinated dance that spun him around the room.  
  
"Draco, what on Earth are you doing?"   
  
"I'm doing the Malfoy-Crabbe-Goyle-Yeah-yeah-yeah-we're-gonna-get-fucked-up-watoosie." He said, and ran back to get his wand from the bedside. "Of course, Crabbe and Goyle are not here, so... you want in?"  
  
Hermione's mouth dropped as she realized what he had. She'd heard of a few drugs in the Wizarding World, and much much more in her muggle homeland, but actually seeing it in front of her was a bit of a shock. She stared at the twists of leaves, free of all seeds and stems. It smelled like a blend between citrus and stinksap. She stared up at him, and hoped that her abhorrant shock was not so obvious.  
  
"Draco, don't be soft, I'm not going to smoke pot with you," she retorted, and got up from the bed. He laughed.  
  
"You know, Hermione, I honestly thought you'd recognize it. And what the fuck is pot? Someone as intwined into books would know that this is the wonderful and amazing Ilcabar root - ground up for smoking. Oh! I need my bong!"  
  
She turned to face him, serious this time. "I will NOT let you get stoned in my bedroom," she barked, stepping up to him. "Get out."  
  
"Smoke it with me."  
  
"No!"  
  
"Come on, Granger, what have you got to lose?"  
  
"Look, Malfoy, if we are caught, we could be expelled. Not only that, but the irreparable damage we would be doing to our brains, lungs, and blood flow. If memory serves, the Ilcabar root was responsible for the Goblin fire of 14-"  
  
She was immediately shut up by the sudden sound of Draco's voice - interrupting her, of course, as was his custom when she was on an unwarranted knowledge rampage.  
  
"It also, causes you to actually float up in the air. And everything gets all sparkly. And you get dizzy and we can fuck like mad stoned test newts."   
  
"Draco, no-"  
  
*****  
  
Hermione had been forced to eat her words. She laid on the bed, a book on her chest to stop her from rising up to the ceiling and out the window. But she didn't care. Oh no no no. Whoa, amber is the color of your energy, the words rang through her head.  
  
Her thoughts were now interested, for as the song lyrics cascaded over in her mind, the world around her emitted glitter at every syllable. She breathed out, the purple smoke swirling to reveal a puff of smoke that very closely resembled Professor Umbridge.  
  
"Hey," Draco chuckled, poking Umbridge in the stomach, "That looked like Professor... um, fuckflavorbeans, u-"  
  
"Umbridge."  
  
"Yeah, Umbridge. Toad bitch cow."  
  
"Weren't you on her Inquisitional Squard or something?"  
  
"Yes, yes I was. Mainly because she'd caught me and Hannah Abbott in the, um, well, in the Great Hall on the staff table in between meals and rather than get expelled by Educational Decree A Billion, I agreed to be on her 'squard'."  
  
"You've done it with Hannah Abbott?"  
  
"Okay, Hogwarts has about a thousand students, right? Now, let's assume that I don't screw anyone third year or under. So.." he began to do exaggerated Math-O-Tronic motions with his hands.  
  
"I think I've slept with about 189 girls. If I've slept with two thirds of the girls in each class, not counting those older than me."  
  
"One hundred and eight nine girls? Draco, that's insane!"  
  
"Math is fun," he said, taking another hit. They were almost out.  
  
"When did you lose your virginity?" She asked, taking the Icalabar blunt from him. He laughed.  
  
"Um... let's see. My fourth year."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Well, it was the night before we went home, when Dumbledoorknob told everyone that the Dark Lord was back. Pansy got all scared and I kept telling her to shut the fuck up and calm down, but in the end we just ended up getting really drunk on Firewhiskey and having awkward sex."  
  
"You were fourteen?"  
  
"Ah, I'd just barely turned fifteen. And then I just got pussy-fever and went apeshit over the fifth year, humping approximately EVERYTHING in site. Save for you."  
  
"Can you name them all? I bet you a billion galleons you can't name them all. COME ON DRACO! A BILLION!" She said, her voice escalating in a scream before she regained control of its volume.  
  
"Yes, yes I can. If I try real hard. Hm.... let's see. Pansy Parkinson, Lavendar Brown, Elaine Felton, Hannah Abbott, Katie Bell, Mandy Bocklehurst, Millicent Bulstrode - who by the way is not a natural brunette if you catch my drift, Marie Slone, Cho Chang when she was mad at Potter, Lisa Turpin, Fleur Delacour - over the summer, and that was more based on the fact that Weasley liked her and I wanted to piss him off, Susan Bones, Emma Dobbs, Lisette, Eleanor Branstone, Michelle Edens, Celectina Warbeck, Loony Lovegood, Victoria Crabbe - dont' tell anyone about that though, Joyce Cheung, um, one of Severus' cousin's babysitters or something that was in town for the weekend, didn't quite catch her name, Courtney - a waitress at the Three Broomsticks, Cia Hotty, Julie Atitudi, Alisha Revuer, Sila Chan, Mikasa Wormhole, Daisy May Radcliffe, these three muggle girls I met in Barbados... do you really wanna hear 'em all?"  
  
"No, you dirty little ferret" she said cheerily, blowing out a puff of smoke again. "You slept with Luna?"  
  
"Yeah, she just came into my room and jumped on my cock so I went with it. Oh, and before Potter got kicked off the team last year, I bet Angelina that I would personally sing a nicer version of 'Weasley is our King' in front of the Hall during lunch wearing nothing but Loony's hat and some Gryffindor underwear if they won. Well, they didn't so she had to give me head." He laughed, and looked over at her eyes. They were wide.  
  
"Relax, baby, I'm not an idiot about this shit. I'm protected most of the time and I get myself checked out every now and then. Clean as a fuckin' whistle. Ah, shit, it's almost out." He said, tossing the small joint out the window and kissing Hermione again.   
  
"Draco?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Why aren't I on that list?"  
  
"Oh yeah," he said, "Number one-ninety - Hermione Granger." 


	9. Stoned Test Newts and Muggle Sex Ed

Chapter Nine: Stoned Test-Newts and Muggle Sex Ed  
  
"How did you get up here?" Hermione asked, still high and staring at the purple smoke rising onto the ceiling. "One time, Harry and Ron tried to come up into the girls' dormitories and they got, like... shot right away." Draco crushed out the last of the joint and smiled.   
  
"It can't toss you out if you're invited."  
  
"Like vampires."  
  
"Yeah... a bit like vampires, I guess."  
  
"Boys are like vampires."  
  
"Yup." Now, for seemingly no reason at all to Draco, she started laughing. The sound of her giggles echoed like a waterfall over the room, and the amount of silver and gold glitter that seemed to burst from everything was almost overwhelming to him. He reached over to her, and realized that despite how light and high he felt, his limbs seemed almost uncontrollable. His hands were like big peices of bread strapped to his wrists, and they felt just as they did when he occasionally fell asleep on them in History. He grabbed her face and kissed her uncoordinatedly. This had to be the one thing he didn't like about doing things like that while high. He could not be suave and smooth. It was all just like his first time - bumbling, awkward and unsexy. She kissed him back, and soon the two were tossing and turning in the bed, albeit gracelessly, as Draco had his way with her and she had her way with him and the exchanges went back and forth between the room as the room slowly lit up with the mirage of sparkles. Glitter dripped from the ceiling.  
  
"Draco..." she said breathlessly as she straddled him and leaned over, her lips on his forehead.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I can feel my blood rushing in my veins. It is brilliant."  
  
"You're brilliant," he said. Three and a half minutes later, he came.  
  
Hermione was in the shower, freaking out now. As with all hours - even days of impulsive behaviour, her mistakes were now seeming to catch up with her. She was hot, and shaking. She couldn't get the pictures of her with Draco out of her head. She was nauseous, and disgusted with herself. She'd given it up to HIM?! She would be expelled for certain now - she'd ruined her life! After a few rounds of pacing about the toilet, and taking repeated showers to try and cleanse herself of the filth, she ultimately got into her pajamas, being that it was almost nine now, and she exited the bathroom to find Draco getting dressed himself.   
  
"Are you okay?" He asked, and she recoiled, feeling even more exposed. I must have really look like shite, she thought.  
  
"I am finding it quite hard to fathom the horrible things I have done in the past 24 hours. I am... disgusted with myself, Malfoy." She spat out. He stared hard at her. After a long silence, he spoke.  
  
"Welcome to my world. I feel like that all the time. Story of my life."  
  
"You get as suicidal as I am feeling like now?"  
  
"Oh, come now, Granger, you and I both know that I'm much too selfish to do that."  
  
"JUST BECAUSE YOUR SELFISH DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN GO AROUND, MAKING PEOPLE SCREW YOU OUT OF PITY AND TELLING THEM ITS NORMAL TO FEEL LIKE SHITE!!! JUST BECAUSE YOUR LIFE IS ROYALLY FUCKED UP DOES NOT MEAN MINE HAS TO BE! IT WAS NOT BEFORE YOU!" She said, feeling as if she'd just let loose a ball of fire from her belly. She was even more surprised when he didn't unleash the likewise upon her, but just stared at her.   
  
"You think I haven't heard those sentences before? Aside from me being pity-fucked, which doesn't hurt me because sex is sex, I've heard those words from nearly every girl I've been with. Of course I'm selfish, you stupid little girl. I have to be. If I wasn't, then I would just be a sniveling little baby upset because my daddy hits me and my mom's a harlot and wah-wah-wah. Forget that, okay?"  
  
"I am sorry for calling you selfish."  
  
"No, you're not, Hermione. That's total bollocks and you know that. You're disgusted with yourself. Typical. But now you actually did something that you normally wouldn't. You broke your mold. I'm stuck in mine."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"When I was fifteen, I got really messed up with some wolfsbane and ended up shagging Crabbe's squib sister in his room. She was repulsive, Hermione. I didn't even like her, but I still did it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because it was what Draco Malfoy would do. I heard that she ended up with gonorrhea or some Muggle sickness. And I don't care."  
  
"Did you use a condom?"  
  
"A what?"  
  
"A - oh yeah, I keep forgetting you don't exist in the Muggle world at all. Well," she almost smiled now. It was as if she was explaining the world to a child. She was looking at him now, so corrupt and ravaged by the world. And yet he still managed to not know what a condom was. Typical Draco - big man, small brain. "it's like this balloon that goes on your... thing so when you come, it stays in the balloon and doesn't go into the girl." He stared at her for a bit, his eyes furrowed like an toddler figuring out how to fit a square peg into a circle.   
  
"That's bloody disgusting."  
  
"It keeps her from getting pregnant."  
  
"That's like shitting in your own bathwater."  
  
"No, it's not."  
  
"Is too."  
  
"Is not."  
  
"Yes it is, Granger!" He barked, and then started laughing. "So what other weird shite do Muggles do?"  
  
"I'm gonna go to sleep, Malfoy. Care to join me? Actual sleeping?" She said, raising her eyebrows. He thought about it for a moment. There would be no shagging - it would be INTIMATE.  
  
"Actually, I think I'm going to make an appearance at the Slytherin tower. Maybe brush my teeth - change clothes you know." She gazed at him, and nodded.  
  
"See you later, maybe."  
  
"Maybe, mudblood," he said and smirked, watching her climb into the bed before he left, shuffling quickly to his room, having to be inside soon.   
  
It was quite odd to have the entire Slytherin common room staring you down, even when it's just a mere ten or twelve people. But when Draco had entered the room, the mood had obviously switched quite noticably. You could have heard a wand drop. Goyle, whose family was busy disemboweling missionaries in Africa, turned to face his long-lost mate, his face turned a ghost-white. I've only been gone for ten days, Draco thought, then he remembered his disheveled black eyes and lack of having eaten. He'd not eaten even with Hermione.  
  
"Where have you been? You look like you've walked out of a grave," he piped up, and Draco shrugged.  
  
"That's right, Goyle, I've been dead."  
  
"But - how are you here? If you're a ghost, why don't I see through you?"  
  
"Goyle, you tubby bastard.... bloody dumbass. I've been on an impromptu trip with my... uncle," he said, careful not to mention his father's escape. "His BOSS wanted some work done," he said, attempting to hint at Lord Voldemort, but Goyle just sat blankly, obviously thinking about stickers or pants or Amazing Dancing Gummi Bears. Draco, sighed, and scratched his head which still ached somewhat. He muttered a Pain-Killing spell, and marched up to his room. He slammed the door, and stood, the world around him quite confusing. It had been nothing but pity sex, but now he was a mudblood and... were things different? He felt different. There was no longer a REASON to hate Hermione. But he still had to. Father's orders - keep everything as it were. Your mother ran off with your brothers and filthy muggle mate in the middle of the night and she left everything here.   
  
"Well, so you've shagged Granger. Perfect," he heard his father's voice croak, and from upon the bed, he saw not only his father, but a wretched-looking skinny old man. Lord Voldemort was at Hogwarts, standing in his room. 


	10. Skipping Sunday

Chapter Ten: Skipping Sunday  
  
Draco immediately dropped to his knees, and crossed his right arm in front of his chest, his right hand balled into a fist. He aimed his head towards the ground obediently, not daring to look the Great Lord in the eye. He tried to block out his mind. Surely a wizard as powerful as Lord Voldemort could indeed see the inner workings of his soul. He would know that Draco was a mudblood. These were the last moments of his life.  
  
"Good evening, Lord," he said, his heart beating a mile a minute. Even if Voldemort didn't feel what Draco's mind shrieked, his father had confirmed his treason by claiming that he had indeed slept with a mudblood. So did you, Draco thought. And he heard someone rise from the bed.  
  
"There is no need to be worried, young Malfoy. Your father has explained the entire situation to me. And I have decided that my time would be better spent getting rid of the Potter child and furthering myself than tending to the rather messy demise of your family," he heard the Lord speak. His voice was deep and well-pronounced, echoing in the room like one thousand snakes. A bead of sweat fell from Draco's forehead as he saw the Lord's dark boots in front of him. "Your father's unfailing devotion to my cause has saved your life." He paused now, as if reminiscing on a previous sacrifice that had saved... someone. Draco knew not who. The Lord let out an irritated sigh. "Arise, please, there is no need right now to stand on ceremony."  
  
Draco rose from the ground and stood now next to the Dark Lord. His face was still quite old, but intense. The eyes seemed to burn into his heart.  
  
"I am afraid that I do...." he searched for the words. He had been taught to speak properly in front of his father's mentor and commander, "that I am unaware of the reason you have come here, Lord."  
  
"Yes," Voldemort responded, "it was not my intention to ever set foot in Hogwarts while Dumbledore was still Headmaster, but this little development is quite a thorn in my side. But, with your help, it could very well blossom into a rose. I have only allowed my followers to send their children to Hogwarts in order to keep an eye on Potter, of course, as well as learn as much magic as possible and keep me aware of Dumbledore's activities, but you have given me more."  
  
"Meaning, Lord."  
  
"I want you to use the new CONTACTS you've forged to get me near Potter."  
  
"What does a one-night stand that I took place in have to do with Harry Potter, if you don't mind my asking, Lord?"  
  
"I think it will end up being more than a one-night stand, young Malfoy."  
  
"I am confused, Lord." Lucius gave a chuckle as Draco held back from shooting him an official Go-to-Hell glance.  
  
"Draco, you dimwit, surely you did not think you could be as sexually careless as you've been in the past and not have any consequences?"  
  
"What?" He asked, and before he knew it, he had flown back against his wall, the back of his head once again colliding with the darkly painted border.   
  
"How many times have I told you to address the Dark Lord with respect?" Lucius spat, his cane aimed at Draco. Suddenly, he recalled forgetting to address him as Lord. He wavered for a second as he suffered a quick head rush, then stood back up.  
  
"What do you mean, Lord?"  
  
"Nevermind. All will reveal itself in due time."  
  
"I would very much like to know of what you speak," Draco prompted, quickly adding "Lord."  
  
"You don't need to. Not right now. I have only told you what you need to know. The rest will come in due time."  
  
"I want to know now!" He fell to the ground suddenly, as intense pain ripped through his body. He hadn't heard his father call out the Cruciatus Curse, but having felt it numerous times before, he cried out as tears suddenly purged their way to his face and onto the wooden floor.   
  
"I will not have you speak to the Dark Lord in such a manner!"  
  
"Lucius, calm, all in due time."   
  
Then, Draco went unconscious.

* * *

He awoke with a start in his bed a day and a half later, surprised to find someone next to him. He recognized her immediately. The flat, dull brunette bob. Her face, when not scrunched up to look like a small ugly dog was sometimes cute to Draco, and he sat up, struggling to figure out why she was here. She'd had the weekend out to attend her mother's 17th wedding or something. But here she lay, nude and sleeping next to Draco.  
  
"Pansy, what in bloody hell are you doing here?" She stirred at the sound of her name, and smiled weakly.  
  
"Shite, it's almost time for breakfast."  
  
"What day is it?"  
  
"Monday. I must say, I was quite shocked when I'd heard you'd gotten back after your little week-long absence, but when I came in here to see you, you were asleep and I just couldn't contain myself," she laughed.  
  
"How on earth did you manage to shag me while I was asleep?"  
  
"Ah, a little nocturnal verbal and oral stimulation," he shook her off and got up, where he began dressing.  
  
"I probably have so much bloody make-up work,"  
  
"No, your mother called and told Snape that you'd had an absolutely ghastly family emergency, so he excused you from it," She spat, and Draco halted dressing. His mother was dead. But he remembered his father cutting the hairs from her corpse - 'just in case.' He shuddered, and slid on pants under his robes.  
  
"Get dressed, Pansy, we'll be late for breakfast."  
  
"What, you wanna make a big entrance? If memory recalls, Draco, we're not TOGETHER anymore, so why bother with formalities? I think I'll be late. Take a shower and all that bollocks."  
  
"I don't want any points deducted from Slytherin, so put on some clothes, will ya, love?" He tossed her her black slacks before walking out of his room door.

* * *

Hermione looked around at breakfast as she poured over a book while Ron and Harry discussed rumors that You-Know-Who had been sighted near Hogwarts over the weekend. Apparently, the Daily Propher had reported that a few wizards had sighted Death Eaters following a carriage, and Harry looked visibly worried.  
  
"Harry, Ron, I was here this whole weekend. I saw no carriage nor Voldemort - honestly, Ron - I think I would have noticed." She responded, moving her fork to pierce a peace of fruit on her plate.  
  
"How was your weekend by the way?"  
  
"Boring. I spent most of it in the library figuring out ways to cloak ourselves from the Maraurder's Map."  
  
"Why?" Ron questioned, his mouth overflowing with bacon.  
  
"Because, silly, if the thing ever gets taken up again, we don't want our continuous disregard for the rules and boundaries of Hogwarts made known to say, Snape or something. All of that," she said.  
  
"Oh, fun. Hermione... what's on your neck?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Did you, like, burn yourself or something?" Her head suddenly popped up as she remembered Draco's words - "You've got some wicked hickeys." She felt herself blush, and nodded.  
  
"Yeah, I was trying to curl my hair the muggle way, but since electic Muggle items don't work here at Hogwart's, I tried using a Heating Charm on a barrel of metal and it was just a disaster."  
  
"That doesn't seem like you, Hermione, failing at magic," Harry said, laughing, then shooting a quick suspicious glance towards Ron, who blushed and nodded. Hermione took no notice. "Quite a Neville thing to do." He said, and she nodded again, going back to her Transfiguration notes.  
  
She'd remembered what he'd said. Everything would be different on Monday. Everything would have to go back to normal. Harry and Ginny would flirt endlessly until she wanted to stab them with a fork. Ron would whine about how bad Viktor looked in his recent card (that he had gone out and bought at midnight the day they were released.) Draco would be an asshole again. And she, of course, would be expected to read and spout and argue just as normal.   
  
"Um, Hermione, my family's taking me to a Cannon's game next week. You wanna come?" Ron asked, and she smiled. She could do for a little Quidditch. "Harry's coming, too, of course."  
  
"I'd love to." 


	11. Really Bad Nighttime Mistakes

****

**NOTICE****: Some key story elements in Chapter 10 HAVE BEEN CHANGED as of May 17, 2004. If you read Chapter 10 before that date, please go re-read the chapter or the following will make no sense whatsoever.**

Also, the following is probably my most verbally violent chapter, and Draco's really really mean to someone. Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Really Bad Nighttime Mistakes  
  
Voldemort sat high in his chair, staring hard into the faces of his followers.  
  
"I do not like having to lie, Lord," Lucius spoke, staring down at the ground.  
  
"Lucius, I would enjoy being looked at when someone as devoted as yourself questions my judgement."  
  
"He has done nothing truly wrong, Lord. Fraternizing with mudbloods and muggles does not warrant such-"  
  
"Do not tell me what I believe, Lucius! Is it not true that my beliefs are your beliefs? And if that is so, than such atrocities has your son committed! He has defiled himself, and you will continue on with the plan at hand until it has come to fruition. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, my Lord. I understand and... agree completely."

* * *

Draco sat next to Pansy again. After their visit to the breakfast hall one week ago, she had obviously decided that they were back together and he was far too lazy and unfaithful to argue with her. So she went around Hogwarts calling him her boyfriend again, but he didn't give it a second thought. He watched her take a peice of bacon off his plate, and opened his mouth to object, but found himself simply... unwilling to bother.  
  
"And so then there was this really weird Muggle machine on top of it and it worked just like omniculars. Like, you could repeat what the box showed over and over. I never thought Muggles were that advanced. They called it 'tie-voe' or something."  
  
Draco had no idea what Pansy was babbling on about. His mind was still running with the information that had been withheld from him by Lord Voldemort. What could possibly be such a big secret that Draco's own consequences were being kept secret from him.  
  
He looked up and across at the Gryffindor table. Hermione just sat there, smiling and eating and reading while she laughed at something Ron had said. Stupid bloody Weasley. Not worth the clothes on their backs - which isn't even that valuable.   
  
"Draco, are you listening?"  
  
"Uh... yeah, baby, whatever you say."

* * *

They arrived in London just in time for the game. Hermione was laughing on the train as Fred and George were demonstrating a few of their new inventions, namely a baldness pill, they had on Ginny, who was visibly upset as Fred was pretending to be unable to find an antidote. Poor little bald Ginny had tears running down her face (just as everyone else, except hers were not from laughing) as George soon produced a pill that went into effect just in time. Mrs. Weasley entered the room.  
  
"We're almost there, everyone. Please take hold of your luggage," she ordered, her voice still in its lovably high pitch. Hermione did as she was told, only to have Ron subsequently yank the bags from her (in what she hoped was chivalry) and toss them to his dad.  
  
"Um... thanks," she said, laughing as she caught Harry take Ginny's hand out of the corner of her eye. She said nothing to Ron, who was quite business minded in trying to fit all of their belongings into the "tiny muggle bus" that his father had flagged. Hermione soon corrected him, telling him that it was called a taxi van and agreeing to pay for it with her muggle money. The poor cabbie looked quite confused as the absurdly dressed Weasely family continued cramming odd boxes and bags into the trunk while flagging another vehicle. All in all, Arthur, Molly, Bill, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione stood on the side of a London road, tossing article after article into the two cars. Arthur and Molly soon agreed to allow Ron, Hermione, Harry, Fred and George and Ginny to ride as a group as they rode with Bill, and after what seemed like years of constant deliberation, they were off.

* * *

Draco was asleep on the couch in the Slytherin common room, his feet thrown over the black leather couch as Pansy had run off to do some pointless girl shite with Millicent, leaving him luxuriously cranky and blue-balled as he dreampt. What of he wasn't sure - but he didn't want Professor Trelawney to interpret the easter eggs that sprouted legs as he stabbed them. They had green blood.  
  
Draco sprang awake to a quick slap on his forehead, and his eyes stirred to focus on Blaise, who stood above him, his thick dark brown hair spiked as he held up a bag filled with purple shavings.  
  
"Friday night, mate - I say we get all kinds of inappropriate," he spoke, and Draco sighed, running his hand over his forehead.  
  
"I don't know, man, Pansy's probably going to want to shag me and I'm already tired as all get-out."  
  
"Are you pussing out on me?"  
  
"I am not pussing out on you, Blaise... damn. I'm just really knackered and not in the mood." He answered, still looking at him upside down on the couch, "you got any fags, though?"  
  
"A couple."  
  
"Give us one."  
  
"Go fuck yourself."  
  
"So you'll share your root with me but not your cigarettes?" Draco spat. Blaise nodded, and sat down on the couch with him, pulling out thin white papers upon which he sprinkled the purple drug. Draco watched idly as he minded the paintings around him and the main door. Snape could burst in at any moment and suspend the two. Or at least yell at them. _Hell_, Draco thought, _maybe he'll want to join in_. He laughed to himself as Blaise began to speak again.  
  
"Let's put it this way. If my mother found out that I was putting a 'disgusting Muggle means of relaxation' to my lips, no doubt you'd be finding me in peices in my house," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette which he handed to Draco.  
  
"_Incendio_," he whispered, aiming his wand at the cigarette, which instantly lit. He took a drag as Crabbe and Goyle walked in, looking obviously mad at being left out of the smoking. Blaise took the hint, and tossed the bag to Goyle.  
  
"I can't believe you started without us."  
  
"Well you're fatter than us so it takes you longer to get here after dinner, tubbo," Draco said, attempting to blow a perfect circle. Goyle failed to pick up on the insult and just nodded, as Blaise smirked.  
  
"Crabbe, where's your little girlfriend?"  
  
"Ah, fuck her."  
  
"I plan to," he said, and dodged the clumsy swing from his fist. Draco laughed.  
  
"Draco, why aren't you-"  
  
"I don't need to get any sleepier," he said, answering Crabbe's question before he finished. The four of them sat there, smoking and joking and laughing for a while, until, of course, Pansy and Millicent came bouncing down the stairs. Draco sat quickly up to look between his feet as Pansy smiled and walked over to him, taking his cigarette.   
  
"I've got something to show you," she whispered, and Draco smirked to Blaise.  
  
"Duty calls."

* * *

_The Cannons had won!_ Ron's family had ridden boisterously back to their inn in a caravan of smaller taxis, which upon exiting they had gone to their separate rooms. Molly and Arthur of course shared one, as did Fred and George. Bill had his own, right next to Harry and Ron's, who were across the hall from Ginny and Hermione.  
  
It was only after everyone had been ordered _'straight-to-bed'_ by Mrs. Weasley did Fred and George invite themselves into Harry and Ron's room for some well-needed post game partying. Soon after, Hermione and Ginny followed suit. And then George opened the mini-bar.

* * *

Draco laid on the bed, his black pants still on, staring at Pansy, who sat topless on his lap.   
  
"What do you think?" She asked, and he could not manage to take his eyes off of her breasts. "Draco?" The metal studs that now penetrated her nipples just seemed to glare at him, and he tilted his head, still unable to comprehend this act.  
  
"Pansy, why did you let Millicent shove needles into your tits?"  
  
"You don't think it's sexy?"  
  
"You look like a pin-cushion." As the words left his mouth, her face seemed to turn red with anger.  
  
"Yeah, well, you looked like a total poof all up on Blaise earlier." And suddenly, Draco had no idea what came over him. All he was capable of doing was swiftly taking the back of his hand to Pansy's face, which promptly made a quick _SMACK!_ on contact and she was then on the floor next to him, clutching her face as she looked up to him.  
  
"Oh... fuck."  
  
She got up and removed her hand. On her left cheek was a quickly reddening handprint. For a moment, Draco was absolutely sure she was going to cry. But she didn't. Instead, she punched him squarely in the face. _If that's how she wants to play_... Draco sprang from the bed quickly tackling Pansy to the ground.  
  
"Don't ever hit me, you stupid skank!" He screamed at her as soon as they hit the floor. She struggled, slapping him a few more times as he managed to pin her. "We're even! We're bloody even now and if you hit me one more time I swear to Voldemort that I will rip those fucking bolts right out of your tits so fast you won't even feel it until I am playing in your blood, YOU WHORE!" He screamed, almost unaware of the words that were leaving his mouth. He didn't even see the quite angry and fearless Pansy writhing under him anymore. He shut his eyes, and saw his father. "You evil asshole..."  
  
"You are an asshole, Draco, and if you touch me again, I won't hesitate to tell Snape about you and your weed."  
  
"Do it, and I'll tell him that you shagged Bradley Tuck in his Potions class!"  
  
"Go ahead, Draco! Tell him! I don't care! Bradley was a much better lay than you any day of the week."  
  
"Well, I had a better time fucking _Granger_ than you!" He spat, and suddenly, reality came hurtling towards him like a Patronus. "Oh no..."

* * *

It was the next morning when Hermione had woken up not in her room that really shocked her. The room looked oddly similar to her own, except that the painting above the headboard was different and the beds were on different sides of the room. She suddenly felt quite worried when she had to reach down to the floor beside her to get her pants. She still had on her underwear, though, which was slightly torn on one side for reasons she couldn't remember. But it was only when she finally stood up out of the bed, in her camisole and slacks that her eyes met with the mirror and she was quite horrified at the reflection.  
  
She stood in the middle of a hotel room with a pounding headache and an even worse hickey. But in the bed next to her was a boy, and poking out of the covers was the back of a very red head. 


	12. Typical Teenagers

**NOTICE: There will not be any slash in this story... ew.**

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Typical Teenagers  
  
Hermione's chest felt like it was pulsing so hard that her heart would soon burst out and land on the hotel comforters. She wouldn't have... she _couldn't_ have. Not her and Ron. Not her and her best friend. Not her and one of the two people whose opinions of her really mattered.  
  
"Ron, Ron! Oh sweet Merlin, Ron wake up!" Hermione said, sitting on the bed now pushing against his bare back. Last night came back to her in blurred and numb flashes. She hardly remembered anything except the taste of something called Schnaaps, and Ron's lips against hers.  
  
He stirred for a bit, and turned to look at her. There were sheet prints all along his face as he took in the site of Hermione, standing on her knees - legs open - on the bed, with her pants not yet zipped. His flaming red hair was tousled and matted down to different sides of his head. His eyes grew wide for a second, but then he relaxed, tossing the covers off of himself. She braced herself, but felt her heart finally settle (somewhat) back into its proper location when she saw that Ron still had on his jeans. He scratched his head for a second, looking around at the garbage dump that before last night's party had been his clean hotel room, and then returned his eyes to Hermione.  
  
"You're in your knickers."  
  
"I know," she said, pulling up her slacks and zipping them. "Do you.... remember anything?" Ron looked tense for a second, and shrugged, shaking his head.  
  
"Can't say I do," he nearly whispered, reaching for a shirt that lay on the floor. "Did you wake up dressed like that?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Do you remember anything?"  
  
"Well my knickers are torn, and I have a headache, but that's about it. You don't think we did anything, do you?"  
  
"Well, I - no. No, 'cause that would totally destroy our friendship. Besides, I think our virginity is best spent on celebrities, right?" He joked, tossing her a sweater. She nodded, wanting to cry out that he was wrong and she was a huge whore, but she just smiled, and laid back down on the bed, searching for her shoes. "Do you feel like we did anything?"  
  
"Mmmmm - I don't know," she said, her nerves and heartbeat still winding down. "Maybe we did and you're just not all that impressive," she joked, dodging a pillow that flew at her. Suddenly, Ron's head sprang up and he tensed as he looked at the empty bed next to him.  
  
"Where's Harry and Ginny?"

* * *

Draco hadn't truly apologized to Pansy yet. His father had always told him never apologize. A Malfoy means to do everything he does. _'Regret'_, he always spouted, _'is a Muggle emotion, along with sympathy and want.'_ Draco had never wanted anything.  
  
But when he woke up next to her on Saturday and saw the bruise his slap had left on her face, he did feel a pang of guilt, which automatically subsided when he realized that not only had she not cared - she'd put her bra back on as not to offend him with her peircings and still went on with sleeping with him. He hated being with her. It reminded him of his parents - he'd hit her, she'd hit him, they'd sleep together and then they didn't talk much after that for a while. But he also loved being with her in that it required little or no effort and he could get a good shag whenever he wanted. It was comfortable.  
  
"Draco?" she spoke softly, her warm head still half-asleep on his shoulder. He looked down at her head, which was still covered by the stupid dull blonde bob that hardly moved when they did anything.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I think I'm pregnant."  
  
"No, you're not."  
  
"Okay." She said, and sat up, yawning.  
  
"You need to stop doing that, Pans, because one day if it's ever true and I'm not gonna believe you." She shrugged, nodding as she looked back at him. Her cheek was slightly browning and swollen. "Nice bruise you got coming up."  
  
"Ah, you always hurt the ones you love," she spat, and threw on his black silk robe, heading out of his dorm and to hers.  
  
He didn't think he loved Pansy, their relationship was more one of acceptability. Everyone expected it, so why not?

* * *

Hermione wanted to shout at the top of her lungs that Ron and Harry's back and forth screaming would soon wake up the Weasley parents. Granted, had she any little sisters, she knew she wouldn't want to find them naked in a bed with her best friend, but she wouldn't want her parents to know either.  
  
"You stupid little mudblood motherfucker!" Ron screamed at Harry, diving for him as the two fell to the ground. Apparently, the Weasleys were quite prone to 'muggle-dueling.' A punch landed on Harry's face.  
  
"Ron, stop it, you'll wake up your parents!" She cried, and looked at the bathroom, wherein Ginny had locked herself as Ron had entered the room.  
  
"Let 'em wake up! I don't give a witch's tit!" He cried as Harry pushed him off and reached for his wand.  
  
"NOT OUTSIDE OF SCHOOL!" Hermione cried, managing to yank the wand out of Harry's hand, who then looked at her. "You're not of age, yet, Harry."  
  
"No but he's old enough to shag my baby sister, isn't he? _ISN'T HE?!"_ Ron screamed, a slight nosebleed emerging from the one hit Harry had managed to land.  
  
"You talk like you didn't do some shite you regret, Weasely!" Harry responded. Ron suddenly seemed to cease his anger and turn it into some much-necessary curiosity.  
  
"What did I do?"  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"I'm not kidding, scarface, this is **important**. What did you see me and 'Mione do?"  
  
"Nothing important," emitted a tiny voice from the bathroom. Ginny exited, her eyes obviously puffy from crying. "We saw you two kissing, and then Ron - you started taking off your clothes so Harry said we should leave."  
  
"Yeah, he would say that wouldn't he?"  
  
"Look, Ron, what me and Harry may have done is really none of your business so you need to sod off, okay? Or I'll just tell mum that you and 'Mione shagged each other. I have no proof, but then again neither do you. So the events of last night will just remain our little secret, okay?"  
  
Ron stared his sister down, knowing that her idea was best.   
  
"Alright. Our little secret."  
  
Harry managed to slide on his glasses and muttered a spell to fix the cut above his eye. You could cut the tension in the room with a sword.   
  
"Good game last night, though, ey?"  
  
"Harry, you lanky git," she muttered, and turned back to face Ginny. They had to talk.

* * *

Everyone's attention was noticeably awry in Transfiguration on Monday. Hermione had not been able to turn Crookshanks into anything that McGonnagal wanted, and the points that had been taken away from both Slytherin and Gryffindor were beginning to skyrocket.  
  
Ginny had been spending all day in the hospital wing talking to Madame Pomfrey and some wizard counselor. Harry, of course, was also a bit visibly regretful at his actions over the weekend. All Hermione need do was wait until Wednesday to see if she started. Wednesday was what mattered. If she didn't start bleeding on Wednesday, she was royally screwed and... Merlin, she wished she remembered anything about her and Ron. She could only remember kissing him and taking off her sweater. Then, everything went all hazy and blurry and dull and black.  
  
MERLIN DAMNIT IT WHAT HAPPENED?! All she could do was wait until Wednesday.  
  
As if on cue to interrupt the mindlessness of her students, Snape burst into the room, looking obviously angry and flustered. His eyes cascaded across the room until they met with Minerva's.  
  
"Excuse me, Minerva, but Dumbledore would greatly like to speak with a few of your students."  
  
"Could you be a bit more specific, Severus?"  
  
"Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini," he spat angrily. Draco felt his stomach fall to his feet. What had happened after he'd left Friday?  
  
And behind him, Professor Sprout walked up. 


	13. Truth & Consequences

**The following is probably the most directly "based-on-true-incidents" chapter of my story, so enjoy! Thanks to everyone for your great reviews!**

****

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Truth & Consequences  
  
After half of their Slytherins had been pulled out of Transfiguration, Professor McGonnagal ended class early. Ron dutifully got up and headed to the other side of the room to talk with Seamus and Dean. Harry watched him walk off, looking somewhere near between tears and ripping him to shreds. And as the two split, Hermione once again felt that heaving feeling in the pit of her stomach. They were making her choose. SHE HATED WHEN THEY DID THAT! Granted, she'd done it more to Harry when Ron had though that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers (which he had not,) but that was a rat... not a sister. She took a deep breath, and looked at Ron, waving him off. His face scrunched up, turning almost purple, and he whirled around, his back to her.   
  
Harry remained at his seat, staring down at his quill now, a bit of the ink smudging his fingers. She sighed, and muttered "_Scourgify_," And Harry's hands were clean.  
  
"Only on the outside," he whispered, looking over to Hermione.  
  
"What?"  
  
"They're not... clean, 'Mione. Sod Charms next period. I don't care," he said, and grabbed his sachel, walking swiftly out of the room. Hermione desperately tried to avoid the stares from her classmates as she hurriedly followed him.

* * *

Draco sat in Dumbledore's office, surrounded by the gilded walls and snoozing portraits. A few, however, stared down angrily at him. He wanted desperately to cry out and ask the grimacing wizards why he was being detained in the office. _Especially_, he thought, _why we're being left alone.  
_  
Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise all shifted uncomfortably along with Draco due to the fact that there were no chairs in the office. Draco did not know if there had ever been, but the lack of them only added to the tension.  
  
"What the fuck are we going to do?" Blaise whispered to Draco.  
  
"Shut up. Don't say a bloody thing." He commanded as there was a sudden sound behind them. The four whirled around, and - immediately - Draco felt a scowl starting across his face. _Stupid crackpot old fool_, he thought,_ thinks I don't know about the bloody invisibilty cloak._  
  
"You can reveal yourself, Headmaster," he allowed, and Crabbe's jaw dropped as Dumbledor suddenly appeared in a flash of whirling silver.  
  
"I guess, now that you've said that, my old tricks can be of no use. Sit."  
  
"But there's no-" Goyle began, and with a flick of his wand, Dumbledore suddenly sent the four sixth-years into four gold chairs that had suddenly materialized behind them. And Draco was unable to move his legs or hands.  
  
"So, let's converse," Dumbledore said as Professor Sprout walked into the room. With the shutting of the door behind them, Dumbledore tossed a thick ball of something onto the desk. Draco's felt his heart start a mile a minute when he saw the twiny purple ball. It was root.  
  
"Does that.. item look familiar to any of you?" Draco prayed that Crabbe and Goyle said nothing, and that small prayer was granted. He looked to Blaise, who stood with a contented look of boredom on his face.  
  
"No, sir. It looks like something Millicent's cat coughed up."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Completely." Draco retorted.  
  
"Oh... well that settles that." Dumbledore said, and got up to leave. "Oh, unless you really really really really really want to tell me something."  
  
"There's nothing to tell."  
  
"You're... sure?" He asked, and pulled a small bottle of a clear liquid from his pocket. _Veritaserum._

__

* * *

"She hates me."  
  
"She does not hate you, Harry, she's just-"  
  
"Too busy hating me to talk to me," Harry spoke softly, laying on his back in his four-poster. Hermione sat next to him, hating how hot the room seemed. Whenever there was a fight, or serious matter to be discussed, the temperature around her seemed to go up five degrees. She'd spent a great amount of her young life being far too warm. "I am just trying to figure out what exactly I did wrong. I mean, she was just as pissed as I was and things just got carried away and it's not like I drugged her or raped her or anything."  
  
"I know."  
  
"And she just seems like, you know - she won't speak to me. And Ron hates me and I'm pretty sure that if Arthur or Molly found out they'd hate me, too. I didn't think we were doing anything wrong." Harry removed his glasses and covered his face with a hand, rubbing his closed eyes. He breathed outward. A long, drawn-out sigh.   
  
"I know but she is probably really ashamed with herself right now and seeing you would only make it worse. I mean, what you and her did was-"  
  
"A huge deal. A big gigantic deal and I have no one to talk about it with but you and you're - no offense - but you're a bit of a prude, 'Mione and I just didn't think you'd be as receptive. I mean, I was afraid you'd followed me up here to read me off lists of STD's and lecture me for half an hour."  
  
"Yeah..."   
  
"Could you talk to her for me? Tell her I'm sorry?"  
  
"Harry,_ please_ do not involve me in this!"  
  
"How is she supposed to know I'm sorry when she won't see me?!"  
  
"Okay, fine, I'll talk to her."  
  
And in the next room, they heard Ron yell '_Diagon Alley' _and a sudden rush of flames.

* * *

"This is... _unsatisfactory, _Lucius." Lord Voldemort replied, staring Lucius Malfoy down defiantly. His long fingernails gripped his wand tightly, and even he himself was aware that he may break it. "I believe that we had discussed the plan numerous times. So long as the blood of a Death Eater flows in the veins of the child, the charm will work, but... now there are... problems. This Weasely clan has been ruining our plans for far too long. First they participated in the founding of that damned Order and now their son could surely ruin everything. Where did you get this information, anyway?"  
  
"I overheard Arthur Weasely talking about it to a co-worker. Apparently, he had been entering his sons' store in Diagon Alley two days after the Chudley victory when he heard his children arguing about the girl. Apparently, this Ron, or Rock or Rocco also may have slept with her."  
  
"I just don't understand why she was allowed to leave. Why did Draco let her leave?"  
  
"I don't quite yet know, my Lord. He's become aloof once again. He's slipping back into his old ways albeit more somber now. You remember Parkinson?" Lucius spoke obediently, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named nodded.   
  
"Respectable man, a great loss to my cause."  
  
"Well Draco is currently courting his daughter."  
  
" 'Courting', Lucius? Let us not kid ourselves. I want you to have a close watch kept on this Granger girl. Once things seem to be... in order, we will set our plan into action."  
  
"And if things don't fall properly into place?"  
  
"Then we'll just have to create better scenarios. Getting your son near her was hard enough, but getting him to know her should be quite the entertaining challenge. I trust you're up for it?"  
  
Lucius nodded, "With full resolve." And with these words, a hazy gray owl began to float outside of the window. Recognizing it as one of the Hogwarts owls, Lucius furrowed his noble brow and opened the window. Lord Voldemort covered his face. He read the scroll attached to the owl's slim claw, then sighed, taking out his wand and silently killing the bird.  
  
"What does the letter say, Lucius?"  
  
"Draco has been suspended."

* * *

Ginny stared up at Hermione, smiling through the few tears.   
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No problem, Ginny, but you should not be solving all of your problems this way. I am pretty sure that you can fry a good portion of your brain with too many memory charms."  
  
"I just want to forget."  
  
"But what about Harry? Do you not think it was a big deal to him?"  
  
"I know it was, but the way that I feel right now - just make it go away, please. Please, Hermione."  
  
"Okay," she replied, and held up her wand.

* * *

Draco sat in the small square that consisted of himself, Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise. The train headed swiftly back to London, and they were all eerily silent. Draco surely feared the punishment that would take place, as did Blaise. And of course, Crabbe feared even being unable to return.  
  
"She'll keep me out, I know it! Probably send me to Durmstrang or something. Wouldn't it be awful? Having to school with all of the bloody _Bulgarians_?" He whispered, leaning forward.  
  
"Ghastly!" Goyle replied. Draco took another long drag on his cigarette to the annoyance of a few other Muggle passengers. The smoke seemed to swirl above him and he wondered what horror lied in store for him. Had he "betrayed" his father? Was his throat to be slit and his blood boiled and purified? He was filled with so much hatred now for Goyle, who had consumed the Veritaserum and told all. He was even angrier at Blaise and Crabbe for not denying it. So what if they had nothing to lose? He had _everything_ to lose, and now he would spend a week home with his father while a few Ministry of Magic officials investigated what wizarding laws he'd broken by stealing the root. He'd of course improperly used magical herbs, but whether or not he'd done anything truly horribly wrong was for them to decide. And he'd have to go to trial. School ended in nearly three months anyway - what was the point of even returning? He would just attend for eight years like Flint had.   
  
Blaise kept nodding off, having taken far too much Muggle motion sickness medication. Draco was finding it quite odd, but he was irritated at the prospect of having to leave Hogwarts. He felt as if he had left something behind. Not Pansy, not a pair of socks, not his wand [_which Dumbledore had confiscated before Draco's note had been sent home_]. It was as if he had a splinter at the top of his stomach, as if he'd left his wand on its own in the middle of a flame spell. He couldn't tell what had created the petite hole, but there it was, empty as the mansion towards which he was headed.  
  
Draco got off the train, saying goodbye to only Blaise before spotting one of his father's servants outside of the gate before a long black towncar. Blaise headed off towards his parents and Draco made his way into the car.  
  
The car ride home was torturously dull by himself. He chose not to smoke around his subordinates or his father, so he'd quite often found the presence of the help quite hindering. The only time he had ever imbibed any sort of impurity was around the random servant girl or two he'd managed to bed, but now the cold driving rain of the bland, greying London streets made him so desperately want root, if only to make the world outside his windows colorful and happy - like it had been when he was with...  
  
He shook the thought away and laid down on the leather seats, massaging his temples until he drifted off into a wonderfully pleasurable sleep.

* * *

Hermione stared down at Harry, who now looked as wonderfully innocent and untroubled as Ginny had after she'd obliderated her memory of the event.   
  
"What are you doing in here, Hermione?"  
  
"Just came to wake you up, Harry - you've been asleep."  
  
"Have I?"  
  
"Yes."

* * *

"I don't understand. I don't deserve or need a present." Draco spat, staring down his father in the great wide corrider of their house. His voice echoed through the blue and greying metal and concrete hallway. Family portraits stared down angrily at him. 'Ungrateful bastard,' a few of them muttered.  
  
"Come now, Draco, I've decided that your insolence was only done to upset Dumbledore. I went through a lot of trouble acquiring such a jewel for you and I'd expect you to use it and appreciate it as you see fit?"  
  
"And if I just wanted to burn it and piss on the ashes?"  
  
"Well then do so, but I think you'd be much displeased," he responded and Draco shrugged hopelessly, tossing his black leather bags onto the ground. As he did, their snake-shaped clamps slid off and slithered off into nowhere. Draco did not understand why his father hadn't commenced to beating him or whipping him. He had been suspened, and if found guilty by the Ministry could very well be expelled. And his father had purchased him a present. He was quite puzzled. After making his long and artuous way to his bedroom, Draco entered, and tossed his robes onto the couch.  
  
His bed was tall and metal. Rather than rise from the floor like most beds he'd seen, his hung from the ceiling by long thick chains on all four posts. The bedsheets were green and gold and lime - as they had been since he was born. Silken, satin, fur, and hippogriff feather pillows. But on that bed was something new. Draco eyed it - they cuffs around its hands and feet. Its hair was matted to its head by sweat. The creature breathed in and out slowly as if trapped in a daze. Draco immediately recognized it as a Haulytommof hypnotism. He leaned over the creature, covered by nothing but a sheet and muttered a few words. "Esseruc erroptoi," and the girl's eyes came into focus. She was frightened. He smirked. She was perfect. Rolling her over, he looked at the center of her back on her spine. She had already been branded with the Malfoy family crest.   
  
"What's your name?" He whispered, running his finger over her nude arm.  
  
"Sadie."  
  
"Well, Sadie. It's nice to meet you. I'm Draco."


	14. Explosions

Chapter Fourteen: Explosions  
  
He stared her down, his finger wandering along her nude skin. She was young - too young. Her eyes were a dark brown and they stared up at him like a scared and frightened little kitten or doe, and he smirked, kissing her forehead. Someone who very well could have been blind had recently cut the hair on her head. Its ends were jagged and layered and completely asymmetrical and he wanted nothing more than to just dive into this tiny little creature like a ravenous wolf. Two weeks ago, he would have. He would have thought nothing of it while raping this poor innocent... child and then he would have just tossed her out to the house servants to dispose of. To kill. He hated now to think of all of the "presents" he had thrown away. Her reddish blonde locks fell over her eyes as she closed them quickly before they quickly opened back up, as to not leave herself susceptible to injury. Breathing in her scent of sweat and spices, he spoke.  
  
"How old are you, Sadie?"  
  
"Almost fourteen," she whispered. He sighed, and sat up, facing away from her.   
  
"I don't feel like hurting you right now. But I've had a long day and I'm to go take a shower," his head craned around to see her, "give me your word you won't run if I leave this room, and I will keep you from injury. I won't hurt you while you are in my bed. Do I have your word, Sadie?"  
  
"Yea...Yes, sir." He smiled, and kissed her fingers, then left.

* * *

After blasting away Harry's memory with the same charm she'd used on Ginny, Hermione saw fit to tell Ron. After getting ready for bed and waiting for the girls with whom she shared her dorm to fall sleep, she crept into the Gryffindor common room later that night, seeing Harry fast asleep on the couch. Puzzled, she walked past him and into the boys' dormitories, sneaking eventually into Ron's room where both Seamus and Dean also slept. Ron was asleep in his bed, covered by nothing but a pair of boxers with his red hair matted and tousled around his head. His breathing was slow and hard, and he seemed to mutter random phrases about Quidditch and food.  
  
"It was a foul....stupid woman," he whispered, and she pulled back the thin curtain.  
  
"Psst. Ron." He did not move. "Ron!" She whispered harshly, pushing his naked shoulder lightly. He stirred, and opened his large eyes.  
  
"Hermione? Mmrph, what are you doing here? What time is it?"  
  
"Bedtime, but I had to talk to you. I've... erased Harry and Ginny's memories so you can't go saying anything about Friday night."  
  
"Wha - why would you do that?"  
  
"They both wanted me to."  
  
"But 'Mione, what if something happens to Ginny. Like she gets some weird Voldemort-incited illness from Harry or put in a family way or something like that?"  
  
"Ron, I honestly do not think that could happen. Harry grew up in the Muggle world so they were careful. I mean there is always a chance, but its slim to nil." She said in a small attempt to speak softly so he too would keep his voice down. He sat up, and the moonlight hit his skin. 

"I just hate that he did that to her. It sickens me. I mean, here I am supposed to be protecting her now that I'm the only one left here, but Merlin forbid you and me get arseholed and then I just... I sodded off my duties as her big brother. If mum ever found out..."  
  
"Ron, you've been doing a fine job. You just got sidetracked, that is all."  
  
"Yeah... so they wanted you to wipe out their memories?"  
  
"Well, Ginny begged me to. Said she was too embarrassed and mad at herself. She could not be around Harry because it just brought up all of the bad shite that she felt about herself. And she liked him too much for her to hate him - yeah, girls are quite complicated." Ron nodded, and Hermione yawned, lying back onto the pillow next to Ron. "I thought you should know."  
  
"Well thanks for telling me, girly." She giggled, and reached up to push his hair back down.  
  
"You know, Ron, you should really cut your hair. It is getting rather long."  
  
"You're sounding like my mum."  
  
"I'm just remembering back to when we were first-years and your mum had cut it all short..."  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"And it was all jagged!"  
  
"Shh!" He said, covering her mouth, as she was now laughing at loud. He was propped up on one elbow, staring down at her while laughing quietly to himself. She brought her hand up to his, smirking beneath his fingers. Biting them ever so slightly, he pulled them away.  
  
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked as he gripped a few of her fingers and stared at her like she was a feast to be had.  
  
"Like what?" He said, and leaned down. He was getting too close - far too close. And she shut her eyes as Ronald Weasely was suddenly kissing her. And she felt once again her heart beginning to shudder in that terribly sickening erratic rhythm. It was beating extremely fast. She breathed hard, feeling Ron's hand on her cheek. But then she was aware of the fact that she was kissing her best friend with him half on top of her in bed surrounded by two other boys. Apprehensive as she was, she - through the numbness of her mind - felt Ron's hand move down to the buttons on her nightgown. She grabbed them tightly.  
  
"What are you doing?" She spat, sitting up. It was not her intention for the words to spill out as angry as they had, but he furrowed his brow, and sighed.  
  
"I just thought... you know, after Friday-"  
  
"Why would Friday have changed anything Ron?" She asked, buttoning back up the top bit of her dress. He looked away for a second, then back at her. "What? _You remember something?"_ He shook his head. "Ron, please don't lie to me."  
  
"What makes you think I'm lying to you?"  
  
"You're blushing! You always get all flushed when you're not telling the truth. Now what do you remember?"  
  
"I don't remember _ANYTHING,_ Hermione!" He yelled, at regular volume so that Seamus stirred. She stood up off of the bed.  
  
"Well if you do not remember anything why are you treating me like I'm some common 'scarlet woman' as you so eloquently put it?"  
  
"I don't think that about you at all, I just wanted-"  
  
"You wanted what? Me?"  
  
"Yes! Yes, _finally_! Thank you very much! Is that so bad? I wanted_ you!_"  
  
"Well I am sorry - but if you will not tell me what you remember, I guess I'd better leave," she cried, and spun about, heading towards the door. She suddenly heard Ron's feet hit the floor.  
  
"FINE! YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT I REMEMBER! I REMEMBER IT ALL, LITTLE MISS GRANGER!" He yelled, and Seamus sat up, along with Dean, both groggy and confused.  
  
"Ron, stop it."  
  
"No! You wanted to know. I remember that you, who acts so fucking innocent all the time-"  
  
"Stop it!"  
  
"You wanna know everything?! I FUCKED YOU! Okay? And you loved it! You bloody loved it, Granger! So now that you're sober, you're like, above me? Too good for the Weasely when there's no muggle liquor in your system, is that right?"

"Stop it! YOU LIED TO ME!"

"Of course I lied! I DIDN'T NEED FOR YOU TO HATE ME! Because you know that you and me together isn't disgusting! It can't be! That's just bollocks because_ I love you_! I have loved you for the last four fucking years and I finally get to have you and you're just so bloody royal you can't stand me anymore! So just go back to your bloody books and your Viktor Krum and fuck yourself some celebrities. Hell, while you're at it why don't you just put another knife in my back and _shag Malfoy_?!" He let loose the tirade on her, and when he was done and she was near tears, the room was so bathed in silence you could have heard a pin drop. Every eye in the room was on here, and she opened her mouth. No sound came out.

* * *

Draco emerged from the shower and sighed, with nothing but a black towel wrapped around his waist. Sadie had fallen asleep. He looked around for boxers, but he gave up this quest and soon just dried the rest of his body. Tossing the towel aside, he lifted up the sheets and slid in next to Sadie, pushing the hair away from her eyes. She opened them and - realizing that he was also naked - seemed to become even more frightened than before.  
  
"Shh." He commanded, and she shut her mouth. "Right now I'm going to ask you some very important questions, Sadie, and I need you to answer them truthfully. Are you a virgin?" She nodded. "Are you a witch?" She looked confused for a moment, and shook her head. He shrugged. Another muggle torture like the ones his father so delighted in. "Have you met my father?" She nodded. "Did he hit you?" She nodded. And Draco shut his eyes for a bit.  
  
"Sadie. You shouldn't be in this fucked-up situation, but sadly you have been abducted by a very messed up group of individuals and you've been given to me as a present for getting suspended from school. And I don't want to hurt you, but tonight, I** _am_ **going to sleep with you. But I **will not** rape you. And tomorrow, when I let you go, you have to swear that you won't make it known that you're still alive. Because they're supposed to kill you when I'm done."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Because that's just what they do."

* * *

Hermione hated crying. She loathed it and abhorred it but when she returned to her room, she couldn't stop it. What was worse, though, was that she didn't quite know why. Whether or not she was crying because she found out that she'd slept with Ron, or that Ron loved her, or that Ron had called her shallow, or that Seamus and Dean knew, or that he'd made her feel like even more tripe for sleeping with Malfoy, she didn't quite know. But soon her pillow was damp with tears and she was sure that Parvati and Lavender desperately wanted her to stop - if they'd been awoken, that is.  
  
What had she done?

* * *

Sadie was drifting in and out of sleep on his shoulder, but he could feel her breathing against his sides, which had always been an odd comfort to him.  
  
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he spoke softly, but he sensed her smiling.  
  
"Whose Hermione?" She asked, and he turned to look down at her.  
  
"Why'd you ask that?"  
  
"You said her name. Right before you... you know. You said 'Hermione'. Who is she?"  
  
"Are you upset that I said someone else's name?"  
  
"Are you asking your present's opinion?"  
  
"No. Hermione is... well, she's a girl I slept with around 2 weeks ago. My most random choice for a shag, but the circumstances were undoubtedly in her favor. And now, it's quite odd. I find myself with her on my mind."  
  
"Are you in love with her?"  
  
"Who? Granger? No, no at all. I guess I'd have to say it's more of an intrigue really. I'd like to get with her again, you know, find out everything about her. Physically and mentally." He laughed. "Sadie?" Looking down, he soon found she was asleep. He got up and moved the covers around her before returning to the shower.

* * *

The next morning, when Draco awoke, Sadie was gone. But a note left on his pillow read the following.  
  
_DRACO - SAW A WINDOW AND TOOK IT.  
  
-S-_  
  
He set the letter on fire, and breathed out slowly, heading downstairs, where his father was waiting, with breakfast on the table.  
  
"Morning, Draco. Sleep well?"  
  
"Not that you'd care, but yes I did."  
  
"Did you enjoy your present?"  
  
"To the best of my abilities."  
  
"Well done. I regret to inform you that I have a meeting today with some associates at the Ministry so I'll be unable to tend to you. Will you be able to entertain yourself today all by your lonesome?"  
  
"I'll be fine, father."  
  
"Are you sure? We might play a few rounds of bladeball. You've become quite good."  
  
"Yes, we'll I've been learning from the best. But you go ahead. I need to take sometime and reassess my... life," he said, desperately wanting his father to leave. His presence along with being in the house only brought back the memory of his mother's slaughter.  
  
Within a few hours, he was gone, and Draco leaned back, trying not to let his craving get the best of him. He REALLY_ REALLY_ wanted to get high, but after his stash had been found once by his father, he'd gotten rid of it at the house. But alas, he was grounded and a binding spell had been placed on the house so that he couldn't leave without permission. He wondered how Muggle parents managed to ground their children. _They probably just tie leashes around their kids necks and locked them in rooms_, he thought, smiling.

* * *

Hermione didn't show up to breakfast on Thursday. The last night had been far too eventful for her to face the school. No doubt the story had gotten out that she'd gotten really drunk after a Quidditch game and shagged one of the Weaselys seeing as Dean and Seamus had overheard. She awoke when there was a knock at her door.   
  
"Come in," she said groggily. Ginny entered, a bowl of oatmeal in her hands.   
  
"Hey Hermione," she responded, shutting the door behind her with her heel. "How's Lisette?"  
  
"Oh, she's fine. Quiet a lot now that Draco's stopped talking to her. Mostly just stays in her room and only leaves for class and meals."  
  
"Ah, well it's probably all for the best. I brought you this from breakfast. McGonnagal was worried you were sick and had me bring it to you," she said, passing it to Hermione. She pushed her bushy morning hair back and stared at the bowl, suddenly feeling quite nauseated.  
  
"Ick... I am sorry, Ginny. It was really nice of you to bring this to me, but I just - oatmeal makes me want to puke right now," she said, pushing it away and rubbing her temples.  
  
"Look, Hermione. I heard what happened between you and Ron and if you want me to use a memory charm..."  
  
"No! Thanks, but there's some things he said that I really want to remember."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like.... he said he loves me. Or at least loved me."  
  
"Wow. Are you serious?"  
  
"Yeah. So, how are you and Harry?"  
  
"Oh, we're great. I think he's about to officially ask me out once he gets Ron's blessing or whatever. Some chivalrous boy poppycock or something like that."  
  
"That's great, Ginny. I'm really happy for you."  
  
"Yeah... so was Ron your first time?" Ginny asked, after what seemed like hours of long, awkward silence. Hermione debated what to say. If she lied, she would be lying to one of her best friends, but if she told the truth...  
  
"Yes," she said, biting her lip.  
  
"Oh wow. I don't know what I would do if that ever happened to me. You must feel terrible. But at least it was Ron and not some icky Slythering or something. Hermione, are you okay?" Ginny asked. Hermione felt her head spinning as she felt a sudden urge to burp. But soon the feeling in her chest and throat told her it was more than air.   
  
"I think I am going be sick."

* * *

**Next Chapter: TWO BOMBS GET DROPPED!**


	15. The Stories Blood Tells

Chapter Fifteen: The Stories Blood Tells  
  
"Draco Malfoy, the Ministry finds you guilty of abhorrent misuse of magical herbs and hereby strips you of your wand until you are of age. We have also decided not to expel you from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as we feel it would be best for you to continue your studies as to learn the error of your ways. However, you are forthwith banned from engaging in Herbology studies or ever nearing a greenhouse for the duration of your schooling. Should you be caught near the greenhouse at any point, or in possession of the Icalbar root, you will be expelled from Hogwarts and sent to Azkaban prison for a mandatory sentence of no less than one year. As it is, you will be on probation and under close watch of the reputable teachers at Hogwarts. Second chances are rare, Mr. Malfoy. You should feel lucky. Court adjourned." Cornelius spat, and Draco sat in his chair, taken quite aback.

His father was waiting outside the courtroom as he exited, wandless. The smirk on his face was something Draco wanted so desperately to smack off. How could he possibly be expected to continue his studies without his own wand? Perhaps the school had a lending program or something? He pushed past him and climbed into the long black town car that waited outside. Staring out of the window at the hard, driving rain that always seemed to haunt his car rides, Draco felt his father slide in beside him. They were heading back to Hogwarts. The ride continued in excruciating silence until Lucius spoke up as they neared the school.  
"So, how did it go?" He asked, his slow droll grating on his son's nerves.  
"I thought you said you had influences. That you could get me out of all of that bollocks!"  
"Why do you ask? How were you sentenced?"  
"They stripped me of my wand, banned me from entering the greenhouse and put me on in-school probation."  
"Well maybe it's for the best."  
"FOR THE BEST?! What kind of shit is that? You talk all of this nonsense about how powerful you are but when it comes down to it, father, I can't even keep my bloody wand," he shot out, and felt his father's glare descend upon him. In one fail swoop, the silver snake cane collided with his nose, and he immediately heard a large cracking sound inside of his head as he felt as if his face had caught fire. Bringing his hands to his face, he sensed a warm wetness descending across his lips and chin, and brought out his limbs to see that they were red, covered in his own crimson blood. He tasted copper. Opening his mouth to speak he found that no air could escape his nose and making words was almost impossible. He wretched in pain.  
"Yes, well even snobby upturned noses can be broken, it seems," Lucius muttered quietly, handing Draco a white towel that hung in the back of the car. He took it, and put it up to his now flattened nose. "You can get that fixed when you get to Hogwarts. But for now I want you to deal with that pain. Pain is what lets you know you're not dead... yet." 

* * *

After Hermione had thrown up, Ginny had convinced her to go to Madame Pompfrey, who confined her to bed and gave her some wizarding medicine for the flu, and in a few hours she was feeling a bit better. Drowsy, but better. As she was nodding off again to sleep, she heard a bustle of activity begin as two or three people were being led into the hospital wing. She heard a very flustered and upset Madame, and the slow gurgling that sound as if someone was trying to speak through thick liquid. She rolled over, and through her blurred vision managed to see a tall platinum blonde with a red face who was visibly upset as the nurse laid him down in the bed and wiped the blood off of his face.  
"Olga, go test that, okay? It may tell us what happened since he can't." The boy tried to mutter something that sounded like "no" but Madam Pompfrey didn't hear. A younger nurse quickly pranced off, the blood soaked handkerchief clutched in her hands. And Hermione fell asleep.

* * *

Draco was glad to be able to breath again after Madame Pompfrey had fixed his nose, which was now, even after having been repaired, a bit tilted. Pansy left when she'd seen all of the blood, and now Draco was left alone, he thought, in the hospital wing as the sun looked about ready to set. His heart beat fast at the knowledge that his blood could bring the stupid staff of the hospital wing. The tests they would run could not only tell how his nose had been broken, but they, if they needed, would be able to test his lineage. It would tell his horrible story. They would find out that he was a mudblood.  
The very thought of it made him downright nauseous, and the tilted cartilage in his nose wasn't helping him keep his food down as he once again tasted blood. He tensed as Madame Pompfrey made her way over to him, a few scrolls in her hand along with the blood-covered handkerchief. She sat down next to his bed, looking quite serious, and she straightened out her apron.  
"Draco, dear, is there something you'd like to tell me?" Draco felt his blood run cold. She knew. He sat up in the bed and stared her straight in the eyes, a tactic he'd learn from much of his childhood lying.  
"I don't know what you're talking about," he fibbed, ruffling his head as he felt his nose begin to ache. Maybe he was turning into Pinocchio...  
"Look, I had Olga test your blood, Draco, we know, okay? Are you sure there isn't _anything_ that you feel you need to tell me?"  
"I still don't understand, Madame." She listened to him lie, and sighed, bending her head down before she looked at him, full of pity.  
"Listen, if you want to keep it to yourself, Draco, go right ahead. I don't doubt that you deserved it, but child abuse is a serious thing. Your brothers could be in danger."  
Draco suddenly felt a chuckle building up in stomach. Poppy cared about his stupid fights with his father? That throughout his life he'd not only gotten his nose broken by his father, but a grand total of five broken ribs, two fingers, a leg, a wrist, a collarbone and a minor skull fracture? He began to laugh, and shook his head.  
"No, that was a one-time thing," he lied, "I did deserve it... I snapped at him and I was just being a prat, Madame Pompfrey, but thanks for your concern." He said, and she smiled.  
"You'd let me know, wouldn't you?"  
"Yes," he responded, quietly wondering when she'd made herself no more than a headstrong school counselor. She nodded, and laid down the scrolls before him, handing him a vial.  
"Take some of that. It'll knock you out, but when you wake up, your nose will be right back where it was. I've got to tend to Miss Granger now. Poor dear, got a touch of the flu."  
She left, and Draco, unable to fend off his curiosity, lifted the scrolls. The handwriting on it was beautiful, black, and the ends of the letters seemed to carry on forever. He followed it down, and read the small story his spilled blood had given the Fluoporter, the story of his nose being broken with a silver snake cane held by Lucius Malfoy. He got to the end of the pages, where many numbers read off his white cell count, red blood, and wizard lineage, but he suddenly felt his body go white-hot when he reached the last few numbers.  
  
**_MUGGLE BLOOD CONTENT: 0%_**

**__**

**__**

* * *

Hermione awoke in the hospital wing just after the sun had set and Madame Pompfrey had convinced her to eat something, although she hadn't done too good of a job of keeping down her pumpkin juice. Next to her, she heard a stifled scream followed by the tossing of sheets. She looked over to find Draco Malfoy storming from his bed. She opened her mouth to ask him where he was going, but soon felt suddenly tired again, and passed out.

* * *

Lucius looked up from his place in his study as Draco burst through the doors, his face purple with anger.  
"Didn't I drop you off at school a few hours ago? Your nose looks better."  
"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!"  
"Ouch. Testy, aren't we? Couldn't get your regular blow job or something?"  
"_I told you to shut the fuck up_! I don't want you to lie to me, anymore, okay? Okay, daddy?! I want you to tell me the fucking truth!" Lucius put his book away, sensing the seriousness of Draco's mood, and stood up, still towering over his son.  
"Tell you what? What is it you think you know?"  
"Was mom a mudblood? Was she?! WAS SHE EVEN CHEATING ON YOU? WERE IAGO AND CHIRON YOUR SONS?! TELL ME OR I'LL FUCKING SLIT YOUR THROAT TO PURIFY YOUR MURDERING ASS!" Draco screamed, irritated at the fact that he had no wand and couldn't just Avada Kedavra his father. Lucius smirked, and began to pace.  
"I knew you'd figure it out soon enough, Draco."  
"Figure out what?"  
"Your mother... was true to me, Draco, but she was unwilling to lay down her life for the cause. When I told her of the Dark Lord's plans for you, she immediately tried to stop me. So I killed her. And yes, Iago and Chiron were my sons and I loved nothing better than sacrificing them for the Dark Lord."  
"But...," Draco choked, "why? What plans?"  
"They have yet to come to a head, but don't worry. Sleep easy, Draco, you're pureblood."  
"YOU KILLED MY MOTHER FOR SOME AGING OLD CRACKPOT WIZARD'S PLANS FOR ME? AND MY BROTHERS?! THEY WERE BLOODY BABIES!"  
"How dare you speak of the _Great Dark Lord_ like that, Draco! He has done so much for our family!"  
"Do you have any idea what you put me through! SEVEN FUCKING DAYS OF SELF-INFLICTED TORTURE! You lied to me! You fucking lied to me! And you killed everyone I ever loved! For some bloke in a black cape making false promises! I slept with a mudblood! Is this punishment, huh? For fucking half of the school? For sleeping with muggles? Why me, why us?!"  
"Because there is old, ancient magic lying in our veins. The Dark Lord needed a Death Eater's child, and since no one was expecting, he decided to use you. The moment you conceive a child, he can possess it and be reborn. Everyone will think he's dead."  
"But why fake my mother's death?"  
"All things in moderation, I've told you more than I should have. Now get back to school before that insipid Dumbledore notes that you're gone. We don't need you expelled. How is Pansy, but the way?"  
"Go fuck yourself."

* * *

Draco had returned to school that night, and was astonished to find Pansy asleep on the couch in his room. She looked so un-annoying when unconscious, and having only had sex with her once was she was asleep, he was fighting the urge to do it again. But he began to get changed, and climbed into his bed. He was just nodding off to sleep when he suddenly felt the weight on the bed change.  
"Pansy..."  
"What?"  
"I'm tired, and if the teachers catch you in here, I'm fucked."  
"Oh, you're gonna be fucked either way."  
"You're bugging me."  
"You make me horny."  
"Will you _stop_?" He said, rolling over to face her, and before he could insult her, he felt her lips set upon him. She was wearing vanilla lip gloss, which he hated because he could never manage to push her off of him when he felt like he was about to get some and eating a cupcake at the same damn. Damn lip gloss. But for some reason, he didn't want to push her off anymore. He tangled his fingertips in her hair, and pushed her head closer to his.  
He hated this particular personality trait of his. Sex and drugs were his release from a lot of shit. He was angry with his father, but rather than stay angry, he would much rather have chauvinistic angry sex with Pansy. He liked girls without fathers. They were much more open to suggestion.  
Draco felt her lips leave his and flow down his chest and stomach and crotch and -  
"Holy shit," he said and leaned his head back as Pansy's tongue, lips, and hands surrounded his cock. As his breathing escalated and he kept hardening and her head circled and bobbed around his waist, he felt almost as if he loved Pansy. Even with her false pregnancy over the summer and their mutual infidelity, he wanted so badly to love her. To have something of his own that no one could fuck or fuck with except himself. But all of those feelings died as he came and Pansy dutifully shut her mouth, leaving the room for a few seconds.  
He looked around and found a small towel, cleaning up the small mess he'd made. And when Pansy walked back in, he gave her a civil smile. She blushed. He didn't know why, seeing as she'd given him head what seemed like a billion times. She laid down next to him in the bed, and he was still breathing quite hard. He kissed her cheek, and she began to speak.  
"That was really good."  
"Why don't you ever do it to me, Draco?"  
"Because... I don't, Pans, you know that. I never have and I don't intend to," he replied stubbornly, and she bit her bottom lip. "Pansy?"  
"Yeah?"  
"I think I might be... infatuated with Granger."

* * *

It was another two weeks before Hermione once again fell ill with the flu. She'd had a spot of it a while back, but this was worse. She'd get sick at certain points in the day, and didn't even like going to Arithmancy just because she knew she'd get nauseous halfway through. It was during one afternoon in the lavatory after getting another bathroom pass from Professor Vector that she heard the door open. She finished throwing up and another irritating thought crossed her mind. She'd been expecting her period a week after the Quidditch match that she'd visited with Ron, but seeing as she'd found out she'd shagged him, her mind had been on more trying things. Ohmigod. She felt a lump well up in her throat as she shut the door behind her. She looked up, and was instantly intimidated by who she saw.  
Pansy Parkinson stood before the mirror, applying a bit more makeup to a bruise that rested underneath her left eye. She caught herself staring at her, as Pansy looked over.  
"Hey mudblood."  
"Pansy," she drawled politely, holding back tears that threatened to penetrate her eyes as her thoughts escalated. Pansy looked up and smirked, then looked down and sighed.  
"Sucks, doesn't it?"  
"What?"  
"You're pregnant."  
"That is none of your business."  
"It's every girl's business, Granger. I won't tell anyone."  
"Go to Hell, Pansy. Okay? I am not even sure that I am pregnant. Maybe I am just late because I'm stressed."  
"Because you slept with the Weasel?"  
"Don't call him that."  
"Here, give me a finger," Pansy said, holding out her hand. Hermione did as she was told, immediately flipping her the bird. Rather than be pissed off, Pansy reached out and grabbed the finger, promptly taking out a small silver nail file and poking it. A tiny red circle appeared, and Hermione had to hold herself back from slapping Pansy.  
"What in the bloody hell was that for?"  
"Watch." She spat, and squeezed the finger until a quarter-sized pool of blood had gathered onto the counter. Pansy took out her wand, and whispered, "_Notificus ifantitem_." Hermione felt like she'd been standing there for an eternity before the blood began to swirl.  
"How do you know all this?" Hermione asked after the awkward silence had become too much for her.  
"Me and Draco have been on and off since fourth year. I've had about three pregnancy scares."  
"Three?"  
"Yeah. One time... one time I actually was pregnant, after our fifth year. But I lost the baby over the summer and until now, Draco still thinks I was lying about the whole thing."  
"Did he hit you?"  
"What, then? No."  
"I meant the black eye you have now."  
"Oh, yeah. I kind of deserved it, though. Snapped off to him, you know?" Hermione shrugged, but was rather taken aback by Pansy's next question. "Did he hit you, too?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Draco told me about you and him." Hermione felt her stomach drop to her knees.  
"You're not gonna tell anyone are you? Ron doesn't know."  
"I won't tell, but make me a promise."  
"Okay."  
"_Stay away from Draco_. It's like pulling teeth trying to keep him from dumping me, and I don't want you becoming an obstacle."  
"Okay..." she said, and they looked at the blood spot, which had assumed a plus-sign symbol.  
"Well, that settles that. You're pregnant, Granger. I'll see you in Charms."  
"Shit." 


	16. Hi, Ron

Chapter Sixteen: "Hi, Ron."  
  
Draco, although quite pissed at his father, had felt a welling up of relief when he'd discovered that he was not a mudblood. The sickening feeling that had built up in him for two weeks had finally dissipated, and he had been able to sleep better without so many doubts running through his head, but he still couldn't get Granger out of his mind. He'd regretted telling Pansy right after she'd sucked his dick. He needed to be more tactful. But the two of them had known each other since they were three and he wasn't one to not tell her things. Only big shit he kept from her, like he'd thought he was a mudblood and that Voldemort had some big plans for his sperm and his dad killed his mother and brothers. He was hoping eventually he would get up the courage to use a memory charm to erase the images that still lingered in his head.  
It had bugged him when the rumor about Granger and Weasely having slept together had begun to spread. Hermione had been his physically, and although he knew that he was the one she would remember for the rest of her life (another thing he liked about virgins... there was a touch of immortality in being the one that took it from them), he was afraid that she would fall for the Weasel. Maybe he was charming or something. Draco had always been bad at judging the character of other men. It was in the next trip to Hogsmeade that found Draco searching for ways to leave the town. He'd hit Pansy two nights before, and really regretted the black eye he'd left her with. But while they were done milling through Honeydukes, he saw Hermione eating lazily on a piece of licorice, looking especially somber and melancholy. But he couldn't speak to her in public. Unless he was berating her. He was unaware of the fact he was staring at her until there was a sudden smack on the back of his head.  
"Pansy, what the fuck?"  
"If you could not stare at other girls while I'm right here, that'd be great, Draco."  
"I wasn't staring, I was just-"  
"Oogling, eyeballing, glaring, leering?"  
"Will you shut up?"  
"You're cute when you're mad."  
"Can we just get out of here?"  
"Draco, if you get caught leaving, you could be expelled. I mean, aren't you still on probation?"  
"Yeah, but I want to try something with you. Come on. We need to get to a Muggle store."  
"Ew – why?"

* * *

Hermione watched Pansy and Draco fight playfully, and she wondered where Harry could be. Things with Ron were still awkward, and their friendship had definitely suffered. After he'd blown up and the rumor mill at Hogwarts had begun to circulate, he had become somewhat of a celebrity for "deflowering" her. But she hadn't brought herself to talk to him for the past 2 weeks, and now that she had even bigger problems, she didn't know how she could possibly tell him. What was worse, is she felt like her life was turning into some badly written soap opera. She loved Ron, but how she couldn't figure out, and Draco was a weird infatuation that had ballooned out of proportion one night and now she was pregnant. _Great. Bloody fucking fantastic._ Her head popped up when she saw Harry and Ginny enter, all smiles and holding hands. _Fucking sheep._  
"Hey 'Mione." She said, leaning over and whispering something to Harry. He nodded, and walked off as she sat down next to Hermione. "Is something wrong?"

* * *

"Draco, this is stupid and gross."  
"There's a lot," he said, staring at the many multicolored boxes that hung on the walls in the supermarket. Trojans and Durex and even generic brands, but Draco recognized none of them. He didn't know of any one hundred percent trustworthy contraception spells. But from what Hermione said, these all sounded pretty reliable.  
"Why not the Trojans?"  
"Um, Pansy, do you not pay attention in History?"  
"No. Binns makes me sleep. Why?"  
"The Trojans got killed by the Spartans when the witches and wizards assisted them in building a horse. I don't want to use anything that can be destroyed by a horse."  
"You plan on me shagging horses?"  
"Ah, well you're shagging me, so the size is the same, right?"  
"You're really fucking cocky. I'm gonna go get some chips from that free sample place." She spat, and walked off. He hated the third week of each month just because Pansy got all angry and temperamental and he couldn't have sex with her. It made him cranky and while he was able to get shagged by anyone, he'd lost the ambition to do so. He'd only slept with one other person since they'd gotten back together. Some girl with Tourettes the night before his sentencing at the Ministry, who had consistently caused him to crack up during the shag because she would just scream random phrases whenever he did anything she lived. By the end, he had her composing schizophrenic verbal novels. He laughed at the memory, and eventually grabbed a red box and went to find Pansy.

* * *

Ginny stared at Hermione, her jaw threatening to hit the floor. Hermione had just told Ginny that she was pregnant.  
"Have... have you told Ron?"  
"No. And _you can't_."   
"You need to tell him."  
"Ginevra, I know that."  
"Don't call me that."  
"Sorry. I think I'm getting moody or some shite. Promise me you won't tell Harry?"  
"I'll try," she said, as Hermione noted that he was walking towards them. Harry sat down what looked to be a root beer float and kissed Ginny's forehead before she scooted over and he sat down.  
"You want anything, Hermione?"  
"No."  
"You know, you really need to talk to Ron about 'the Friday.' "  
"Harry!" Ginny snapped.  
"What? Okay, Hermione, honestly, he's miserable. And he thinks you hate him."  
"He shagged me while I was drunk."  
"He was drunk, too."  
"Obviously not as drunk as me or he would have forgotten too, then - wouldn't he?"  
"You're being really unpractical – which isn't like you, Hermione. Are you PMSing or something."  
"Harry!"  
"I'm trying to have a conversation with my best friend, Gin."  
"Well, could you be a bit more sensitive?!"  
"Look, I've known her longer than you. I think I know the right amount of sensitivity, bird."  
"Why are you acting like this?"  
"Look, Ginny, maybe you should go stand outside."  
"What the-"  
"Golden Trio business, baby."  
"Fine," she snapped and stood up with her drink, storming out of the store.   
"What was that all about, Harry?" Hermione asked, finishing the licorice string.  
"Why don't you go ahead and tell me what's really going on?"  
"I do not know what you are talking about," she replied, and Harry stared at her. His fingernails were dirty, and he tapped irritatingly on the table. She suddenly felt the need to reach for the nearest fork and stab his stupid repetitive tapping fingers.  
"We'll trade. I'll tell you a secret about me. And then you can tell me what's making you mad."  
"What secrets could you _possibly_ have, Harry?" He nodded, realizing the point she made, but instead he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small plastic package, tossing it onto the table. Five or six thin black sticks fell out.  
"Harry! _Oh merlin_, those are so bad for you!" Hermione barked, and he smirked, pulling out a clove cigarette and lighting it with his wand. "Stop! Ugh, you never listen to me!"  
"Okay, so I smoke. Now that you know that, tell me your secret."  
"You are going to get cancer."  
"Quit stalling."  
"I-," she had to rephrase this, "I think I _might _be pregnant." Harry looked up at her, and the clove cigarette dropped from his mouth.  
"Ow... shit!" he cried, catching it as it his shirt. "That's wicked heavy. Have you told Ron?"  
"No."  
"Oh..." he said, and put the stick back up to his lips. "Okay, here's another secret. I got a hard on when I saw you at the Yule-Ball."  
"Harry! Oh my goodness, please stop with the traumatic secrets!" She yelled, and a few people in Honeydukes looked over at them. He laughed, and got up for a few seconds, returning with an ice cream sundae. "What on Earth is this for?"  
"It's a gift for the new mommy, but you do need to tell Ron once you know for sure."  
"Harry... Ron is..." She struggled with what to say. _Ron isn't the only guy who's fucked me. I shagged Draco Malfoy three times. And I got high with him. In my room. Where you've sat.  
_ "Yes, Hermione? Believe it or not, I was actually listening to you."  
"Ron is – Ron is not the only one."

* * *

Draco punched the plastic bathroom stall door as his other hand covered Pansy's mouth and he knew that the makers of whatever brand they were using weren't lying when they had printed "ribbed for her pleasure" on their boxes. He'd sensed her having at least two orgasms from the moment they'd begun their tryst in the supermarket bathroom. But he had finished in a violent flourish, and his knuckles were bloody as bits of cheap tile fell from the bathroom wall. He kissed Pansy's cheek, and ran his bloody hand through her hair as he thrusted again, pushing her over the edge for the third time. Why couldn't he fucking fall in love with her?  
"That was... so cool." She sighed breathlessly, her teeth still around an earlobe. "I didn't think I had a third one in me." Draco weakly lifted her off of him and tossed her her underwear, which had been thrown onto the ground, and he pulled off the tiny red condom. Gross. He looked up at a clock in the bathroom. It had been twenty minutes since they'd entered the bathroom. He usually never took this long to finish with Pansy. A few minutes top, as she was just as quick to climax. Was he losing his mojo? He laughed at the word and got dressed, giving her one last quick peck before they left, bound for Hogsmeade.

* * *

"I can't tell you who."  
"Fucking tell me, Hermione. It's not, like, Fred or George is it?"  
"Ugh, God no."  
"Then who?"  
"Look, Harry. I made him a promise. And I promise _you _that when the time is right - Maybe over the summer or when we graduate, I will tell you. But not now."  
"What if you are pregnant and it's not Ron's? Won't he know?  
"I will tell him if I need to, but I do not want to hurt him."  
"Then you need to at least talk to him. Because I'm getting tired of staying on suicide watch."  
"Are you serious?"  
"Please talk to him."  
"Does Ginny know you smoke?"  
"No."  
"Well then you should put that out, because she's coming back in."

* * *

The trip back to Hogsmeade was painful as Hermione kept fighting the urge to cry openly. Ron had not come to Hogsmeade, and she felt rather bad now. But how could she possibly have a baby with someone she had no real recollection of sleeping with? And it was Ginny, who on the trip back, brought up a solution.  
"Why don't you just do it again?"  
"What?"  
"Look, you're pregnant and it's Ron's, right?"  
"Um... right." She had to remember that only Harry and Pansy knew about her Draco experience.  
"So I'll arrange for Harry and Seamus and Dean to be out of the room and you can just sneak and there and _fuck his brains out_."  
"GINNY! That's your brother!"  
"I know that, muggle-brain, but he _did_ get you pregnant and you need to at least have some fun memories in order to make up for such a big life upheaval."  
"You certainly do have interesting ideas."  
"Okay, I'll get rid of them."  
"Thanks, I guess."  
"So tomorrow night then?"

* * *

Hermione was incredibly nervous when Tuesday rolled around. She was supposed to sleep with Ron tonight, and had showered at least seven times to assure herself that she looked beautiful enough for him. And when, while sitting in the common room, she saw Ginny leading Harry, Neville, and Dean out of the room (they all looked overly excited), she knew it was time to go.  
Ron was sleeping in his bed, still muttering about Quidditch and food. She smiled at his dedication to routine. She slowly moved across the hardwood floor, her bare feet feeling the cold beneath them. Her heart was thumping wildly beneath her thin nightgown and she approached the bed, pulling back the thin curtains. Ron stirred, and she sat on the bed.  
"Her-Hermione?" He asked, his eyes slowly opening. She smiled, and felt almost ready to cry. They were talking again.  
"Hi Ron."  
"What are you doing in here?" He asked, and she leaned down, kissing him. He started to part from the kiss, but gave up and reciprocated, his lips dancing with hers. Sitting up, he held her face in his hands, his eyes closed, as he couldn't believe that she had actually provoked this. His hands were caught in her curly brunette hair, which smelled so bloody good. Hermione, knowing only what she'd learned from Draco and books, began to kiss the edges of his lips and his cheeks. Ron's hands encircled her head and as he kissed the area behind her ear. She sighed, and kissed him again on the lips and sat back staring at him. Bringing her hands to her chest, she began to reach for the pearly white buttons on her dress before Ron's hands covered hers. They were hot, and pulsing, and it felt to her as if his palms should be on fire.  
"Why?" He asked breathlessly. "Why are you doing this?"  
"I want to remember, Ron."  
"I don't want to ruin us."  
"Ron, I do not care. I want you to be with me. I want to know what it was like."  
"But-"  
"Ron, no excuses, sweetheart. You are putting out." She said, and waiting for a second before laughing. "Okay, alright." She kissed him. "Make love to me, Ronald Weasely." She said, and he stared back into her eyes. And she suddenly felt incredibly naked before him. But rather than turn her down or cast her off, both of which she feared immensely, Ron was suddenly set upon her, kissing her with such loving desperation that she was afraid that he would knock her over. The two were suddenly in frenzy, a heated, steamy mass of brown curls and red locks as Ron took from her the job of undressing herself. She leaned back, watching him with a coy smile on her face as his large fingers fumbled with her buttons. He looked up and smirked as she kissed him quickly. He completed the undressing and tossed the white cotton fabric aside, staring at her in all of her mostly nude beauty, save for a pair of white silk knickers.  
"You're so beautiful," he almost whispered, and she kissed him, pressing his flushed head against the headboard, attempting to distract him as her hand flowed down past his relatively nice pecs. Over his abs that would have existed as a six-pack had it not been for the layer of baby fat that covered it, but when Hermione's hands slid down beneath the elastic rim of his boxers and felt his rather rigid staff, Ron quickly felt her kisses stop.  
"What? What's wrong?"  
"Um.... Take off your boxers."  
"Why?"  
"Do it." She said, and he nodded, sliding them off, feeling incredibly embarrassed. He tried not to pay attention to the fact that Hermione's eyes fell from his face and down to his crotch.  
"Why do we have to do this? Hermione?" He asked, but all he heard was silence. And he looked at her to find her mouth had dropped, and her eyes were the size of saucers. "Will you answer me?" She struggled to make a few words, and looked up at him, smiling for a second, and then laughing. "Okay, you're NOT supposed to be laughing right now. What's so funny?"  
"Ron..." she giggled, "Um..._wow_. That thing is gigantic," she said, and laughed again, mostly at the fact that she hadn't expected Ron to have something this size.  
"Why is that funny?"  
"I just do not know how I did not feel that the next morning. I do not know how I am going to handle it now."  
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."  
"Ron, it is okay."  
"Do you want to stop?"  
"Um... _no_." She said, and kissed him harder, pulling him forward onto her as it started to rain outside.  
He laughed good-naturedly and kissed her, brushing the hair out of her face.  
"I love you," he said deeply, and she felt one of his fingers circling her bellybutton. "I don't want to hurt you." His fingers slid lower, and cascaded down her legs, accompanied by her white underwear.  
"And I do not want you to worry about me," she said, grinning and running her fingertips down his spine. Ron kissed her as the maroon and gold covers gathered around them, and ran his palms up her forearm until their fingers locked. He went slowly as he felt her fingers clench down tighter on his hand and she bit his bottom lip softly. Ron had not managed to be this grand on the Friday because of all of the liquor – he'd barely managed to hold his erection and now he realized in the slow but intoxicating instance as he found himself each moment more and more inside the girl of his dreams, her tiny whimpers underneath his lips, that this entire ordeal would need to be taken at the slowest of paces. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her now. Hermione's free hand gripped at the sheets.  
"Ow..."  
"I'm sorry."  
"No, it's okay, it's fine," she said, her voice wavering. Ron looked up and noticed a tear rolling down her face. He kissed her cheek, and then caught it on his tongue.

* * *

Hermione had fallen asleep quickly after their union. The whole act had taken almost an hour, seeing as any movement too quick or deep hurt her and caused her to yelp. But now she found herself asleep in the bed, Ron's semi-nude form behind her, his head nuzzled in the nape of her neck. After she'd nodded off, he had gone to take a shower, and tossed his maroon blanket with his teams' Quidditch logo. And sliding into bed next to her wearing his sweatpants, he'd spooned up behind her; unable to believe they had just finally made love to each other, uninhibited by alcohol. He breathed her in, and nodded off to sleep.

* * *

Ron awoke to a few chortles, and rubbed his eyes to see Seamus, Dean, and Harry standing over his bed. Hermione was still asleep, naked next to him underneath the blanket.  
"Hey Ron," Seamus said, struggling to keep his mouth shut. "_Sleep well_?" He spat, and the three peeping toms began to laugh.  
"Shut up! Shut up!" Ron said sitting up and throwing a pillow at Dean. "You blokes need to be quiet okay?"  
"Yeah, I bet she's pretty tired."  
"I'll tell you all about it later, okay? Just don't wake her up," he looked out the window. The sky was lightening, but there were still a few more hours of sleeping that could be done. The three of them nodded, and began to change to climb into their beds, and Ron kissed her cheek as they all laid down. When he was sure they were asleep, he ran his finger down her cheek. "Hermione?"  
"Yeah?"  
"It'll be dawn in a bit. Do you want to go to your room before your roommate notices you're gone?"  
"No..." she replied sleepily.  
"You need to. I don't want you to get in trouble."  
"Okay," she said and sat up, Ron catching a quick glimpse of her flawless nude backside before she wrapped the blanket around her. She picked up her nightgown and underthings before leaving the room.  
"Hey," he said, whispering to her as she neared the door.  
"Yeah?"  
"I'm glad you're not mad at me anymore." She smiled, tired.  
"I'll see you at breakfast, Ron."

* * *

**Sorry for the fluffiness, but I couldn't just have them fuck each other's brains out. More Harry and more Blaise involvement in later chapters. STAY TUNED, FOLKS!**


	17. Skank

**Chapter Seventeen: Skank**  
  
The Great Hall of Hogwarts rumbled with sniggers and stolen glances as Hermione and Ron sat next to each other, both of them hiding a not-too-well- kept secret. The Great Reconciliation had taken place a week ago, and everyone was humming about how Granger and Weasely were officially an item. Ron even helped her put the food on her plate, and the two were so google- eyed towards each other than even Harry and Ginny were a bit put off. But across the Great Hall sat a very pissed off Pureblood.  
Who the FUCK did Ronald Weasely think he was? Next thing I know, he'll be trying to shag Pansy, Draco thought, stabbing his eggs mercilessly as Goyle watched in horror. Why was this bothering him so much? He'd shagged girls with boyfriends. Married women. So one of his past conquests manages to nail one of the most irritating thorns in his side. Why should this upset him? Because she was his. Fucking. His.  
He looked around the Great Hall and noticed Lavender Brown wasn't there. Perfect.

* * *

Breakfast had just let out when Draco managed to follow two oblivious first-years into the Gryffindor common room before he called out Lavender's name.  
"What do you want, Ferret?"  
"Invite me up."  
"No."  
"Come on."  
"Sod off."  
"I'll make it worth your while," he spoke smoothly, realizing that without his wand he couldn't create a rose or piece of jewelry. Shit. But after she'd invited him up and they'd made out for a bit before he managed to hypnotize her into a deep sleep.  
After that however, he was free to roam about the girls' dorms. But Hermione's grand-prefect room was locked, and he knocked hoping that Lisette would let him in but mind her own bloody business. He was wrong.

* * *

_ Hermione breathed in and out quickly as Ron held her hand. They were in a muggle hospital, and she was very much aware of a great pain between her legs. Orders and commands came from everywhere about her and she retained none of them, focusing only on the climbing amounts of pain and the sweat that seemed to rain down from her forehead. But suddenly, everyone around her disappeared.  
But the pain between her legs remained. And she leaned her head upwards, seeing only blackness and sparkling stars. The pain was different now. Slower, and more sensual. She looked down to see that she was now straddling a man. She was fucking Draco Malfoy._  
"No!" She screamed, waking up abruptly in History. Professor Binns looked up from his droning, and raised an eyebrow, but continued on in his teaching.  
"What's wrong, baby? You okay?" Ron asked, rubbing the sweaty area between her shoulder blades. She was breathing so hard.  
"Um... yeah," she lied quickly, gathering up her books and quills, kissing Ron fleetingly, "I'm really really tired. Too much studying you know? I think I'll go take a nap." Professor Binns nodded idly, and she gathered her books, giving Ron a fleeting kiss before she left in a huff.  
"What's the matter with her?" Ron asked, after she'd left. Harry shrugged, getting into a different yet equally comfortable sleeping position in his chair.

* * *

"Lisette, look. I'm not here for you," Draco spat, staring down his past conquest that had apparently overslept and was not demanding him to shag her.  
"Yes you are. You just don't wanna admit it."  
"Listen, Lisette doll baby, you're acting like a whore. I am here to talk to Hermione."  
"BOLLOCKS!" She shouted, and he hung down his head, wishing he had a wand so he could silence her.  
"It is not and you know it. Deal with it, okay? I'm over you."  
"No... you're not."  
"Go in your room before I petrify you."  
"You and what wand?" She asked tartly, narrowing her eyes at him.  
"Fine. But really quick."

* * *

Hermione could not even manage to make it to her room before getting a bit queasy and spending around twenty minutes in the bathroom afraid of vomiting before she realized that it was to no avail and headed to her dormitory. That was one of the things she _did_ like about being a grand- prefect. She got her own room, mostly, when Lisette wasn't there, which ended up being a lot.  
But when she opened her door, she saw that Lisette's was closed. She sighed, and laid down in her bed. She'd only been half-asleep for a bit when she heard her door open. After hearing a deep chuckle, she opened her eyes to see Draco before her. And suddenly, she felt nauseous again.  
"Oh Merlin, Draco what are you doing here?"  
"Aren't you supposed to be in History?"  
"Why are you not in Divination?"  
"I wanted to see you."  
"Leave me alone."  
"Aw, now why? When I could have so much fun here with you?"  
"I am not kidding, Draco, please get out of my room."  
"No," he replied slyly, taking slow paced steps towards her. He was watching her, albeit slightly pale and tired-looking. She was still slightly intriguing.  
Hermione sat up quickly, staring at him. Was he now, without his wand, blatantly defying her? She reached for her wand, but before she knew it, Draco Malfoy had pinned her down within the covers, her wrists turned so there was no possible chance of any swishing or flicking.  
"You're beautiful, you know that?" Draco whispered, kissing her cheek as Hermione heard Ron's words from their lovemaking flew into her ear.  
"Get off of me!"  
"Is that what you _really _want?"  
"Yes!"  
"Okie dokie, then, mudblood." He said and got up off of her, propping himself up on the pillow next to her. He slid his hand through his hair, feeling his few silver rings touch lightly upon his scalp.  
"What did you call me?" She asked, slowly moving herself off of the bed. He looked up at her, suddenly seeming scared and surprised at himself.  
"Nothing."  
"You called me a mudblood."  
"Yeah, so what?"  
"Why would you do that? You're one too!" She cried, and he looked away from her.  
"No. No, I'm not."  
"YOU LIED TO ME?!"  
Draco had to suddenly fight the urge to toss the bitch up against a wall. Why would he lie?  
"I did not and you'd better shut your fucking mouth! I am not the liar. My father lied to me."  
"You are so full of bullshit."  
"Fine, Granger, believe what you want. I _know_ what I want. Let me have you."  
"Do not touch me," she ordered, stepping away from him, placing her hands back at her side, touching her wand lightly.  
"Why not?"  
"Because I am spoken for!"  
"Spoken for? My Merlin, sweetheart, what are you? A cauldron at an auction? The only person who can 'speak for you' is you."  
"Well I am only having sex with one person right now, and sadly, ferret, he's not you."  
"So now you're hot shit because you fucked the Weasel?"  
"Do not call him that! His name is Ronald Weasely and _he loves me_!"  
"His name is Ronald Weasely and he does_ not_ love you. You're just a fun fuck while he's here. Did he ever notice you before that night you got smashed? Was he ever overly nice to you? Or did he just get mad at you for the stupidest things and insult you? Wasn't it Weasely who told you its no wonder... you have _no_ friends your first year? And now you're just some bird who's letting him put his penis in her."  
"That is not true!"  
"Isn't it?" He said, stepping closer to her, running his lips along her cheek, breathing deeply in as he spoke to her. "I bet he can't do to you... what I can. Does he make you see stars?"  
"Stop it."  
"Does he make your nerve endings burn?" He whispered, and she felt the tiniest hint of his tongue sliding across her bottom lip. "Like I do?"  
"Like you _did_."  
"Like I will." He said, and grabbed harshly onto her hair, kissing her recklessly. "Tell me you don't want me."  
"I... cannot."  
"You can't fuck me or you can't say you don't want me?"  
"Both. I promised Pansy I wouldn't."  
"I won't tell her. Go ahead. No one has to know."  
"You are..." she squeaking, attempting to fight back what seemed to be tears, "so unfair  
"Does he make you scream?"  
"No," she sighed, defeated, staring down at her shoes.  
"Who does?"  
"You do."  
"Alrighty then. Argument settled," he said, and kissed her again.

* * *

Ron had not seen Hermione at lunch, and decided that she was sick again. She'd told him about her bout with the flu.  
"Oh Ron, she should be over it in a while. I... wouldn't worry about it," Ginny retorted at lunch, while sharing a glass of pumpkin juice with Harry.  
"Yeah, but if it keeps up, she may be, like, really sick. You should talk to be about it."  
"I think you should give it time."  
"Well, Ginny, maybe if they sought medical help, she could get well faster."  
"Or maybe the Boy-Who-Lived needs to mind his own bloody business." Ron watched this exchanged between his best friend and his little sister. They were confusing. But rather than think on it, he managed to find an uneaten lamb chop and began to gnaw on it, telling himself he'd go see her right after Divination.

* * *

"Oh! Oh no! I'm such a skank!" Hermione sobbed into the blankets on her bed, leaving horrid tearstains on her bed sheets. Draco rubbed her nude back, rolling his eyes  
"You're not a skank."  
"YES I AM!" She yelled, flinging herself back onto the bed, causing her head to hit the headboard. "Ouch!" Her hands quickly went to cover the back of her hand as he laughed, and smiled as she still recoiled in pain.  
"See, you shouldn't have overreacted."  
"Overreacting? I just cheated on the first boyfriend I ever had. With... you."  
"Thanks. I feel special."  
"Oh whatever. You're not lying here feeling like a total sleaze. You cheat on Pansy all the time!"  
"Like when?"  
"LIKE NOW YOU FUCKING DOUCHE!!!" She cried, looking around for her pants, and suddenly felt nauseous once again. And right there, in front of Draco Malfoy, she threw up. A lot.  
"Holy fuck, Granger! That's a shitload of vomit!"  
"Oh gross," she cried, her voice wavering as she looked for her wand. That was so damn embarrassing. "_Scourgify_," she cast as the vomit quickly disappeared. "I'm sorry you had to see that."  
"Ah, I've spent enough hung over mornings with Pansy. You could have asked me to hold your hair back."  
"OH MY GOODNESS, WILL YOU PLEASE STOP BEING SO BLOODY UNPREDICTABLE!!!"  
"I'm unpredictable? You know," he climbed out of the bed, nude as the day he was born, and stepped closer to her, "I never thought you'd have ever let me penetrate you, Granger. I mean, look at us right now. Who'd have thought?"  
"Not me," she said, running her hand across her cheek to wipe away her tears.  
"Look, keep me on your schedule. As long as your bed is open to me, I won't tell Ron about this."  
"What?"  
"You heard me."  
"You are saying that if I refuse to shag you on a constant basis, you will tell Ron - an incredibly loving and dedicated boyfriend - that I cheated on him _once_?"  
"Pretty much. Glad you got the gist of it," she slapped his hand away as he reached out to stroke her cheek.  
"Don't touch me," she spat evilly, narrowing her eyes at Draco.  
She'd hit him, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than give her a quick punch to the face. Bitch.  
"You should probably take a shower, Granger. You're covered in my sperm."

* * *

Draco burst through his bedroom doors after lunch, furious at having his offer refused by her.  
"FUCK!!!" He screamed, tossing a nearby statue into his mirror, and it shattered into several shards. BITCH. _FUCKING BITCH_. Why was he so repulsive? Any one would fuck him, but why not her? Why not her? He wanted his wand. He really needed something. Something stronger than Ilcabar. There was always Oviscopum, but he didn't feel like accidentally OD'ing. That shit was too unpredictable and extreme. Sometimes it had an intense totally orgasmic buzz, and sometimes you dreamt that Satan had made you his bride and was ass-raping you. He's only tried it three or four times since he was fourteen at Crabbe's house.  
Why was she doing this to him? Why couldn't she just give him release? If Draco wasn't as vain and selfish as he was, he would have dove into his arm with a few razor blades or something but not him. He couldn't do that to skin he'd worked so hard on keeping perfect.  
He looked up as Pansy entered.  
"What the fuck do you want, Pansy?"  
"I just saw you coming in here. You looked upset."  
"Get the bloody hell out of my room."  
"Why are you acting like this?"  
"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE RIGHT NOW, PARKINSON!"  
"Where were you?" She asked, standing stationary in his room, her arms folded at her side. He fought the urge to sock her in the face.  
"Please let my room," he said, feeling like he would either hit her or cry if she didn't leave.  
"Were you with her?"  
"Was I with who?"  
"Granger."  
"What? No," he lied, gripping the edges of his robe with his taut fists. Don't hit her. Don't hit her.  
"You're lying to me."  
"No, I'm not."  
"Yes, you are."  
"NO I'M NOT!" He screamed.  
"Liar."  
And with that, Draco more or less blacked out his inhibitions and threw a fist out towards her. He saw Pansy fly back, and slam into his wall, leaving a small red spot as she slid down.  
"Oh shit. Oh, Merlin, baby, I'm so sorry."

* * *

"Do you wanna tell me what's wrong?" Ron asked Hermione as the sun set outside her window. He was spooned up behind her, and she hadn't said two words since he'd been invited up after their fourth class that day. He was worried. Maybe she was really sick. But he just held her, one hand on her stomach, the other clutching her hand.  
"I just don't feel good, Ron. I just hate what's inside me."  
"What do you mean?" He asked, kissing the small patch of skin over her temple that he could reach. She sighed, and rolled over to face him. He smiled, and pushed a curly bit of brunette hair out of her face.  
"Do you love me?"  
"Of course I do, booger, you know that."  
"No matter what?"  
"No matter what."  
"Even if I got in a horrible broom accident and there was just a big gaping hole where my face used to be?"  
"Um... yeah. But sex would be less fun. I'd probably make you wear Harry's cloak over your face."  
"What if... I got really really fat and weighed like a billion pounds."  
"Yep."  
"What if before we graduated I got pregnant or something?"  
"I don't know. I mean, I think mum would be livid and no doubt I'd hear about it from Fred and George and Percy forever. Especially Percy. 'How can you throw your future away like this?' It'd be bloody awful."  
"Would you leave me?"  
"Never, but we don't have to worry about that now. Let's just lay here before dinner."

* * *

**Okay, readers, here's the deal. I've weighed both options of whose baby Hermione is carrying, and both outcomes are equally bad ass, so I wanna hear whose baby YOU want it to be! You can either review, or send me an e- mail at nfmadprops04hotmail.com.**


	18. Growing Tired of Secrets

**WARNING: Parts of this chapter were written while I was on hydrocodone after surgery so please forgive any typos or weird moments. LOL.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Growing Tired of Secrets**  
  
Hermione stood nervously at McGonnagal's desk after dinner, waiting for the teacher to acknowledge her.  
"Is there something you needed, Miss Granger?"  
"Oh, yes, Professor McGonnagal. I was wondering if you could give me a day pass for this Saturday to go to a London hospital."  
"Dear Merlin, Miss Granger. Why on earth would you need to go to a muggle hospital? Hogwarts has quite a reputable mediwizard staff and-"  
"Oh, it's not that, Professor, and please pardon me for interrupting. My, erm, aunt is there. She's quite ill and I wanted to see her before she got worse," Hermione lied.  
"Oh, Miss Granger, I am deeply sorry. Now, normally I don't do this. But I don't have nearly as much trust in my students as I have vested in you. If I give you a day pass, I would be very much displeased if you were spotted at the Hog's Head or Merlin forbid, some horrid muggle night club."  
"You can put your full faith in me, Professor."  
"I know," said Professor McGonnagal, handing Hermione the tiny slip of parchment. The two of them looked up, as a suddenly loud amount of chaos seemed to be taking place outside of her office. "Just a moment," she said, and left. Through the quickly opening and shutting of the door, Hermione managed to catch a glimpse of Snape following Draco, who held something red and shaking in his hands.

* * *

That night, Hermione was nervous about going to the doctor the next day. She'd told Ron that she was going home for family problems, which was somewhat true. However, when she said that, she'd been speaking about their possible family and not her own. Not her muggle parents. Not the people who would probably disown her when they found out what a whore she was.  
How could she have done that to Ron? While he didn't necessarily light a fire in her lady regions like Draco did, she knew for a fact that he loved her. And would she really trade Ron's love for her for amazing fucks whenever_ he_ felt like it? Whenever Draco felt like it? He'd left her room so angry earlier, and she actually feared that he was about to hit her. She'd never been hit by anyone before.

* * *

Draco was being stared down not only by Snape, but Madame Pompfrey and the few nurses after they'd cleaned off Pansy. There had been an insane amount of blood that had managed to come out of her mouth and nose as Draco had picked her up and carried her furiously to the hospital wing. Even McGonnagal had been involved, along with notifying Dumbledore.  
"For the last time, I told you. We _were_ fighting but then she turned to leave, all in a strop, and hit herself in the face on my door."  
"Are you sure? We could test the blood."  
"Why test it? She'll tell you!" He said, looking down at her. He saw the light red areas that were swelling and would no doubt turn into a bruise.  
"Well we would ask her, Mr. Malfoy, but it appears that Miss Parkinson's jaw has been broken in two places," Snape sneered. "She'll have to stay here for a few days while we mend it."  
"However, because_ you_ are involved in this, we need to keep a closer eye on it. You are on probation as mandated by the Ministry, is that correct?"  
Draco sighed, leaning back and looking conceitedly up at McGonnagal, "Yes, Professor." He was good at that. Managing to be cocky when he was really nauseous and scared out of his wits. Save for when he really thought the shit was about to hit the fan.  
"Well then, whenever Miss Parkinson is able to speak, we'll have to have a little chat about you, won't we then? I trust that you'll be in bed before curfew?"  
"Yes, Professor."  
"Good then. I'll send Severus to check on you."  
  
He leaned his head back and sighed, staring down at Pansy who now seemed to be drifting off into a sleep. He did feel truly horrible about it, but he was puzzled. Why had he apologized? He never had before. Maybe it was the seriousness of what he'd done, but no matter what, he prayed that she would understand. He didn't need to be expelled now. He got up, and was turning around to leave when he was shocked at who stood before him.  
"What are you doing here, Granger?"  
"I saw you outside McGonnagal's office... with her."  
"Yeah, well, now that you've eavesdropped to the best of your abilities, I think you can go."  
"Did you hit her?"  
"Look, me and Pansy aren't your business, so go back to your room and bury your head in books or Ron, okay?"  
"So Pansy and you aren't _my_ business, but you and me are hers?"  
"No..." he said, looking back at Pansy to make sure she really was asleep. He hated to look at her face, all painful and contorted. "We're not her business. I wanted you so badly today, and when you turned me down on my offer, I was just... I was so angry with you. For not wanting me. So she started yelling at me and asking me if I was with you and I said no and she called me a liar."  
"You are a liar."  
"I was a liar because you wanted me to be."  
"I never told you to do that!"  
"You told me that you wanted no one to know. I'd already screwed up once because of you, I didn't want you to hate me for doing it again!"  
"I already hate you, Draco, that's been one of the anchor points of our entire relationship. If we ever established this as any form of relationship. Look, I'll be gone tomorrow so don't come looking for me. You need to be here with her and tell her the truth. She deserves to know, okay?"  
"I don't want to break her heart."  
"You've already broken her jaw. Good night." With that, the mudblood turned and left the hospital wing.

* * *

Hermione burst into the Gryffindor common room, amazed at Draco's still continuing ability to piss her off. She passed by the hall, making sure that Lavender and Parvati were all still asleep, and made her way to her room at the end of the hall, seeing that Lisette was by herself in her closed room, like always. And Hermione didn't even notice he was there until she threw herself onto her bed.  
"Ow," he muttered, opening his green eyes and smiling weakly.  
"Oh dear! Ron, what are you doing here?"  
"Well," he sighed, sitting up in bed and holding up a snapped pink rose. "Ginny said you'd been sick, so I brought you this, but you... broke it. And I just came to see how you're feeling."  
"A little bit better. I went to see McGonnagal."  
"Are you still leaving tomorrow?"  
"Yeah, but I will be back that night."  
"I'm gonna miss you, pumpkin butt."  
"It is only for one night."  
"Do you want me to go with you?"  
"No!" she said quickly, and instantly felt bad when she saw the hurtful pang in his eyes. "Well, it is not like I do not want you there, it is just kind of personal."  
"And I'm not let in on your personal stuff? Because I could have sworn that was happened on Tuesday was kind of personal. And what happened on Thursday and-" "Ron, shhh," she laughed, kissing his nose. "I know that it means a lot to you, but once you actually sit down and meet my parents then you can be involved in our personal family shit," she said, muttering a quick spell to fix the broken rose and going to the bathroom to fill a cup with water. She noticed he was staring at her, half-turned on and half-shocked. "What?"  
"You swore."  
"So?"  
"Hermy, baby, you never swear."  
"Ron? Only Grawp called me Hermy. I realize that there are some gigantesque elements on your person, but do not call me that."  
"Hermy."  
"Stop."  
"Hermy."  
"Cut it out, Ronald."  
"HERMY!" He said, and she went into a dead run after setting down the glass, pouncing on him.  
"Do it again, and I will make you sorry, Weasel!" She said, wailing as he put his hands on her hips and flipped her over. Smiling and kissing him, she suddenly remembered what the desk clerk at the hospital had told her. Absolutely NO intercourse the night before your appointment, Miss Granger, she had warned. And now, even as Hermione shuddered at the touch of Ron's fingers along the inseam of her panties, she pulled away from his kiss long enough to mutter "Stop." He looked up from her lips, puzzled.  
"Why? Is something wrong?"  
"It is just... not tonight, okay? I'm kind of knackered."  
"Alright. It's cool. It's almost our curfew anyways. I'll see you tomorrow night then?"  
"Right-o."

* * *

"He's in love with her?" The Dark Lord asked Lucius, who calmly sipped on his tea that the new house elf Zippy had brought. He'd always loathed the asinine names that his servants had come with.  
"She didn't say that, Lord. Just that he seemed infatuated with her."  
"You realize that detrimental effect his falling for her could have, don't you? If he loves her, he won't let me touch her." "He won't have a choice, Lord. School lets out in a month. She'll have to tell him by then." "Did he recognize Sadie?" "Lord, if he'd known who she was, I doubt he would have slept with her. I've screwed him up in certain regards but never that badly, Lord."

* * *

Hermione walked out of the maternity ward, thoroughly pissed off. She needed to know who the father was. She also needed to tell Ron. She needed to tell Draco. She needed to flip a bloody galleon and find out who the father was. The doctor had given her the date of conception, but it just so happened to be April 16 – exactly three days after Draco and three before Ron. Fat lot of good that had done. She hated this. There was really no way of knowing whom the baby's father was until the child was born. Until Hermione could look into her baby's eyes and see the piercing blue, or play with the tiny red tresses that covered its soft pale skin.  
"Hermione!" She looked up, and felt her throat hit her knees as her mother stared her down from across the hall right outside the maternity ward. Oh shite, oh shite, oh shite!  
"Hi mum!"  
"What are you doing on this floor?"  
"I, erm, I am doing some research for my muggle studies class. We are learning right now about muggle medical theory and all that."  
"Well... why didn't you just ask your father and me, dear?"  
"We had to do the work, ourselves, mum. I really should be getting back, though. I will send you an owl."  
"How is all of the studying for your exams going?"  
"Oh, great, fine, mum. I'll see you later." She wished she were old enough to apparate.  
"Bye sweetheart."

* * *

"Hey there, pumpkin butt, how was London?" Ron spouted as Hermione reentered Hogwarts looking tired and sullen. She smiled weakly at him and kissed him, plopping down on the common room couch, and threw her legs over Ron's thighs, kicking off her shoes.  
"Rub my feet."  
"No."  
"Please," she said, tilting her head up and sticking out her bottom lip comically far.  
"Nope," he said and, adding insult to injury, got a book and opened it over her two feet.  
"Ronald...."  
"I'm not touching your stinky feet," he said, and she kicked the book, a little harder than she'd originally meant to, and gasped when the hard cover hit him in the face.  
"Oh no!" She said, her hands flying to her face as his did the same, only reacting in pain in his case. "Oh my goodness, Ron, I am so sorry!" She said, crawling across the couch to him, and moving away his hands while keeping herself from laughing. But it was all a ploy, and she was taken aback when Ron smirked at her, and kissed her. She was laughing, at finally not having to think about anything serious. She was just another Gryffindor girl making out with her boyfriend on the common room couch. It didn't even bother her that Ron had called her feet stinky. She simply pulled on the long strands of red hair that came down from his head, and he laid her down on the couch, the two of them comfortably canoodling horizontally, and she smiled under his weight.  
"I am sorry that I stopped you last night."  
"Well, that's okay, you see, because, everyone's going to sleep now. It's just you... and me... in the common room."  
"With the paintings and Crookshanks watching us."  
"Oh, who are they gonna tell?" He said smirking as he kissed the edge of her smile, and slid open her long robe to reveal a maroon tank top and a short black skirt.  
"Hold on," she said, sitting up, pecking him occasionally, and pulled her wand out of her robe pocket before tossing the long black fabric aside. "_Colloportus. Colloportus_," She cast to the doors of each side of the dorms (which were rarely closed), and looked around the room. "And there we go, _accio blanket_." With that, the maroon blanket flew on top of her and Ron.  
"I love that you're shy like this."  
"I just do not want to be accidentally walked in on-like."  
"You're so smart," he said, bending down to kiss her and run his hands up her legs. Her arms encircled his red head as she rubbed her feet together and got her socks off, along with massaging his feet to remove him. She hated it whenever her lovers wore socks. And she tensed as she felt Ron's hands sliding down the her thin thongs, and she moved her hands back from his hair and to his dark belt, flinging it across the room next to her underwear and shoes and their socks. She'd realized throughout the total of two times they'd slept together that they couldn't go too long without it. Shagging Ron was a bit like having her ears pierced. If she waited to long in between times, it hurt a lot more. "Ready?"  
"Yeah, I'm okay," she said, kissing him as he was pressed against her thigh. He slid his hand above her top and gripped her hand. He slid forward as she cooed a little biting onto his bottom lip. "Ow...."  
"It's cool, we'll just have to keep on until you're used to it."  
"Oh my gosh that is so gross!" Ron heard, snapping his head to the side, as Ginny stood disgusted, staring at the two of them.  
"Hey Ginny." Ron said, laughing nervously as his sister stared him down. He automatically put his face in front of Hermione, as she ran out of the common room, looking positively sick.  
"That was fun, in an awkward kind of way," Ron said, chuckling as Hermione laughed again, not thinking about the human being growing inside of her by the minute. "Next time I'll have to borrow Harry's invisibility cloak."

* * *

Pansy came to on Sunday, looking weakly up as Draco entered the hospital wing.  
"Hey," he said lightly, sitting down next to her. She could barely move her mouth, as it still hurt slightly, and her eyes were dark and black. "Look," he said, running his finger along her arm. "I told McGonnagal that-"  
"I hit my face on the door. I know, I heard," she whispered, her eyes welling up slightly at the pain she felt. "Why?"  
"So I don't get in trouble."  
"No. I mean, why did you apologize to me? You've hit me, like, a thousand times and never apologized for it before."  
"Oh. I was wondering about that, too," he sighed, staring down at her bruised face. "I don't know why. I just saw you bleeding on my wall and couldn't take it. I don't want to hit you again."  
"Draco, baby, you're going to hit me again, we both know that. But thanks for apologizing to me."

* * *

Hermione regretted not telling anyone save for Harry, Ginny, and Pansy yet, as she was now two and a half months along. She hated her moodiness, as it was now getting to a noticeable point. The other day, Ron had asked to borrow her Transfiguration notes, and she'd gotten so mad that she'd called him a no-good cheat and slapped him. Not to mention, but she was getting tired of having to hide her constant sickness from Ron while Harry consistently covered for her. And now she was watching her cheeks get rather chubby in the mirror.  
  
He'd aced his Charms exam, thanks to some studying Pansy had helped him with, and a week before the last day of school, as all of the students sat at their breakfast, owls suddenly flooded the Great Hall. Each sixth and seventh year had their owl fly down to them dropping off a brightly colored piece of parchment.  
"What is that?" Ginny asked as Harry untied his from Hedwig's leg.  
"Oh hey. There's a wizard nightclub opening in Diagon Alley."  
"Let me see!"

* * *

* * *

**_YOU'RE INVITED TO_**  
**_ 3TERNITY  
  
THE HOT SPOT OF THE WIZARDING WORLD  
FOR WITCHES AND WIZARDS SIXTEEN AND UP  
  
3 GALLEON COVER CHARGES FOR ALL WIZARDS!  
  
GRAND OPENING NEXT FRIDAY  
FREE DRINKS UNTIL MIDNIGHT!  
  
ALL HOGWARTS STUDENTS GET IN  
HALF-PRICE WITH PROOF OF SCHOOLING!  
  
GRADUATES GET IN FREE!  
  
63180 FLADNAG LANE  
DIAGON ALLEY_**

* * *

* * *

"Oh my goodness, that is so not fair!" Ginny cried, staring down the flier upon which many scantily clad witches and wizards dance to bewitched floating cauldrons that emitted strobe-like blasts.  
"What do you mean, baby?" Harry asked, taking Hermione's eggs off her plate, as she seemed nauseous from looking at them.  
"I can't go."  
"Don't worry. I'll get you a tee-shirt," he said, smiling as Hermione shook Ron's hand off of her shoulder.  
"Do you wanna go?"  
"Yeah, sure," she said, smiling weakly. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna go throw up." She said and stood up very quickly, leaving.  
"Ginny, can I ask you a question?" Ron asked, and she looked up from her plate, suddenly nervous. He leaned in so that only she could hear him.  
"What?"  
"You and Hermione are close, right? She tells you things she doesn't even tell me, right?"  
"Um... yeah. Why?"  
"Has she.... You'd tell me if.... I'm beginning to think Hermione's bulimic. Is she?" 


	19. Muggle Born Slut

**Hunter, if you've been reading this and haven't reviewed yet, I am VERY ANGRY WITH YOU. LOL j/k but seriously, review, bee-yotch!  
  
Still on meds, and as I'm writing this, I'm realizing it is probably by far one of my worst written chapters, so I'll probably redo it and I'm waiting until Chapter 20 to get everyone into 3Ternity, because I don't want to ruin those chapters because they're mui importante.  
**

-**Chapter Nineteen: Muggle-Born... _Slut_**  
  
Hermione was sitting, still nauseous in the bathroom when she looked up, seeing that it was Ginny who had entered, looking at her with pity.  
"This is getting hard to hide," she spat, wiping her mouth off with a wet towel and casting it aside, pointing her wand to her mouth and freshening her breath and teeth. Ginny nodded, and hugged her.  
"What the hell..."  
"Ron thinks you're bulimic."  
"Oh my goodness, Gin, are you serious? How on Earth could someone get this fat when they're bulimic?"  
"You're not fat, you're just starting to gain baby weight. Hermione," she breathed a deep sigh. "You _really_ need to tell Ron. I mean, you've known for almost a month and half now and I don't know how you're able to keep shut about it. How many people know?"  
"You and Harry and..." she began, but shook her head to get rid of saying the next name. Rumors would start escalating.  
"Me and Harry and who?"  
"Pansy."  
"Oh dear Merlin, Hermione, you told Pansy Parkinson? If she tells Draco, you and Ron will never hear the end of it."  
"Oh, I doubt that will happen. She was the one who helped me figure out that I was pregnant. She promised she would not tell."  
"How on Earth can you trust _her_?"  
"Look. Ginny, she is not that bad, okay? Look, if I tell you this, you have to **swear** that you will not tell anyone else."  
"Okay, alright, I swear."  
"She has been pregnant before, so she was sympathetic."  
"Wow," Ginny said, ruffling her red hair for a second before looking in the mirror. "Was it Draco's?"  
"Yeah, but he still does not believe that she was actually with child. He thinks she was lying."  
"How do you know all this?"  
"Pansy told me."  
"Oh... are you going to that club?"  
"I do not know. I would have to buy a whole new outfit seeing as I am starting to get too big to fit into anything but my robes. Ten new wonderful pounds all courtesy of your brother's baby, Gin."  
"Well I know that the Slytherins are throwing this huge party tonight. It should make for a good diversion if we wanted to slip down to Hogsmeade or something. Maybe we could look into going shopping for a cute outfit."  
"You would really blow off the snake party to go shopping with me?"  
"Of course."  
"Oh my goodness, Ginevra, you are the best friend a pregnant prefect could ever ask for!" Hermione cried, and flung her arms around Ginny's neck, crying into her shoulders. Ginny laughed. Hermione's mood swings were getting quite entertaining.

* * *

"And, as a final toast to the best fucking group of people," Blaise announced loudly later that night, holding up the swirling green liquid in his hand, "and the best group of people for fucking, that I will miss all of the seventh years, hold dear in my heart the sixth years, and really want to bang the fifth years! Slytherin forever!" He cried, tilting the green liquor back into his mouth. All of the other students, including a few Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws cheered loudly as Blaise then pointed his wand towards the nearby instruments and bewitched them to play the closest thing to muggle rap he could get on convential wizarding instruments. All he managed to do was get a thumping bass rhythm, but that was enough.  
"Draco!" He yelled, walking over to Malfoy, and hugged him as Draco laughed, a cigarette hanging limply from his lips. "Are you drunk yet?!"  
"Blaise, it's only nine, I'm gonna try to make it until two before passing out."  
"You do that, gorgeous," he said, laughing and taking a small glass out of a passerby's hand. "I got some root, you want in?"  
"Nah, man, I'm still on probation."  
"You're actually listening to the ministry? Shit, they put me on probation too but my dad said they can all go FUCK THEMSELVES!!!" He yelled, doing a shot then tossing the glass into the air before yelling "Diffindo!" and watching the glass shatter. Draco laughed, and took a drag off the cigarette before looking around the common room for Pansy. The lingering scent of Icalbar that wafted through the room was making him a bit horny and he needed her. Hermione had been avoiding him quite successfully, and her relationship with Ron was getting quite on his nerves. He stumbled a bit, already slightly tipsy from the amount of green- dyed firewhiskey in his system, and made his way to Pansy's room. When he pushed the door open, he was confused to find her asleep.  
"Pansy!" He whispered much too loudly, and she stirred, sitting up. Her face was still bruised from when he'd broken her jaw, but only lightly.  
  
"What do you want?"  
"Why aren't you at the party?"  
"I didn't want to go looking like this."  
"You're beautiful. You're... really pretty."  
"You're drunk, Draco. Just find someone else to screw around with please."  
"No, baby darlin' toodles, it's cool we can just chill in here and read. We'll be like good little Ravenclaws."  
"Whatever, Draco, why aren't you getting stoned like the Fab Four always does?"  
"I'm on probation."  
"So they're all doing it without you?"  
"I guess."  
"You're acting weird."  
"I'm drunk."  
"Do you wanna fuck me?"  
"I thought you didn't want to."  
"I'm making conversation."  
"You're making teasy, annoying conversation, Pans."  
"I'll do it if you promise to make it quick."  
Draco smirked, and then nodded.

* * *

Blaise, thoroughly stoned, made his way back through the party, the walls dripping with glitter as bass thudded through the common room. A silencing spell he'd cast made the sound inaudible to anyone who wasn't in the room. No Snape would be ruining this party.  
He made his way upstairs to the girls' dorm after following Millicent, who was conveniently pissed enough to go to her room without bothering to try to seduce him. And he saw Draco stumbling out of Pansy's room, his bottom lip bleeding. Blaise ducked behind a corner, allowing Malfoy to pass him by, and he entered Pansy's room, where she laid underneath the covers, her eyes perusing over a copy of _Witch Weekly_.  
"Hey there.... Spanky." He slurred, and she looked up, ignoring the fact that Blaise was now staring at her naked, even though she had her ass covered up by the thin green silk and only her nude back was exposed.  
"Hi Blaise," she said, bored, flipping through the magazine.  
"What's up?"  
"Not Draco," she said, sounding somewhat irritated.  
"Are you serious?" He laughed, realizing now that the room was a bit hot.  
"No, he's too drunk and busy fucking Granger to give a good Merlin- damn about me."  
"He shagged Hermione?"  
"Yeah, a couple of times," she said, turning around to face him and smiling. "You know, Zabini. He hurts my feelings."  
"Poor Pansy Parkinson," Blaise said, setting down his wand and unbuttoning the first few buttons on his black dress shirt. He climbed onto the bed, and began to slide his tongue up her spine. She tensed, putting her head down into the pillow.  
"Blaise..." she whined, as his kisses went drunkenly further up to her neck.  
"Mmm-Hmm?"  
"Nevermind," she sighed, and rolled onto her back, baring her breast and proceeded to rip Blaise's clothes off with an unbridled desperation, and within half an hour, he too walked out of Pansy's room feeling no guilt and just a bit sleepy. But it was as he made his way past an open window did he see Draco, with a joint in his hand, smoking idly on the balcony.  
"Couldn't stay away could you?" Blaise asked, shutting the glass door behind them, and Draco nodded, offering it to Blaise who quickly put his hand up in protest. "I've had enough tonight."  
"You look exceptionally well shagged, Zabini," Draco said, taking a drag and holding it in for a second.  
"Pansy told me you couldn't, um, keep it up," Blaise responded, taking out a cigarette and tiptoeing about the subject. He tried his best to sound sympathetic, but the embarrassed look on Draco's face told all.  
"She did?"  
"Hey, man, relax, it's happened to me a few times when I've been too drunk, too."  
"I dunno, I really wanted to, I just..."  
"Couldn't?"  
"Yeah."  
"Would it bother you if I told you I did?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Would you be mad if I shagged Pansy?" Blaise said, holding his hand out, now wanting a quick puff off of the root that Draco held. Draco handed it to him, and looked quite pensive for a while. _Did he own Pansy? Yes, he did_.  
"I don't really mind, Blaise. What's yours is mine, and what's mine is yours."  
"Drugs and all?"  
"Girls and all."  
"Are you going to the club next weekend?"  
"Free drinks? Hell, yeah!" Draco said, laughing, as the stars in the sky seemed to shoot around._ I want to go see Hermione_, he thought, and left the balcony and Blaise and the drugs.

* * *

Hermione had snuck back into the dorm after shopping in Hogsmeade with Ginny after using Harry's Marauder's Map. She'd managed to get a rather cute black leather corset top and white leather pants with glitter that swirled and moved whenever she spun or took a step. She could very well presume that while dancing, her pants would turn into a silver spiral circus.  
Undoubtedly quite tired, Hermione was glad that Slytherin had decided to cancel their party, as she heard no music vibrating from their hall. Most of the Gryffindors were hanging out in the common room, sipping butterbeers and playing chess or a wizard version of the muggle game Clue. But her sleepiness came and went now, and she was half-asleep when there was a knock on her door.  
"Who is it?"  
"It's me, mudblood," she heard, and sighed, pointing her wand at the door. Draco entered, stumbling around. "Fuck, it's dark in here."  
"I know, ass hat, I'm trying to sleep."  
"Why?"  
"Because I'm tired."  
"Then why did you let me in, Granger?"  
"Because you knocked and I'm not in the mood to be a bitch right now. Are you... drunk?"  
"Jussabit."  
"But there's not even party going on."  
"Yes there is, Blaise just bewitched the music so only the patrons can hear it." He said, plopping down into an overstuffed recliner that was in the room. Hermione sat up, and walked into the lavatory for a bit, exiting in one of Ron's Quidditch Jerseys and a pair of panties. The jersey, however, fell to her thighs, and left Draco with no view of the perfect ass he'd handled at least four times in the past. He licked his lips sloppily and hungrily, wanting so much to just jump on her.  
"What are you here for?" She asked, laying back down in her bed.  
"You."  
"Draco, for the last time – I. Am. With. Ron."  
"What has that Weasel got that I don't?"  
"A gigantic cock. And he loves me. You just hump me for the fun of it."  
"That's not true."  
"Yes it is. That thing is huge. It is like," she held her hands about nine or ten inches apart, "that big."  
"I meant about me humping you for the funoffit," he slurred, making it abhorrently obvious that he was still drunk, "I love you."  
"Draco, please just go back to your hall."  
"Why don't you believe me?"  
"Because you're with Pansy and I think she really likes you."  
"So what? She fucked Blaise."  
"And you've fucked me. See? The two of you are perfect for each other!"  
"Hermione, goddamnit!" Draco yelled, using a muggle swear he'd only heard a few times, but it got her attention as her eyes suddenly went wide. "Please fuck me!"  
"No! I want you out of my room!"  
"I will not leave!"  
"I'll call Professor McGonnagal and tell her you're high too if you don't leave!"  
"You would not!"  
"I would, too. Why? What are you going to do if I do not have sex with you?!" She barked, and with a fearful piercing glance from Draco's eyes, he turned towards the door, bursting it open and heading quickly away. And Hermione knew right where he was headed. She started to chase him down the stairs, praying desperately that he would pass out or forget where he was heading, but he didn't.  
He strutted into the Gryffindor common room, and soon spotted Weasley and Potter leaning over a game of chess and laughing, quite tipsy.  
"WEASLEY!" He yelled, and Hermione suddenly wanted to curl up into a ball and die when the entire common room looked over at the two of them, Hermione in nothing but Ron's shirt and her underwear and Draco Malfoy – head of the Slytherin fuckheads standing right next to her. Ron stood up and sucked in a breath in a feeble attempt to make himself look more buff.  
"What did you do to her, Malfoy?!"  
"I'll tell you what we did, you stupid little vagabond! Your girlfriend fucked me! ME! I took her virginity, not you. I slept with her on Easter! I slept with her last week! I can tell you everything about that perfect little body of hers. Like that little birthmark in the indention right above her ass. Let me tell you, Weezle-bee, I had my tongue wrapped around your girlfriend's perfect little mouth long before you ever did, so get off my fucking property, Weasel, she's mine!" Draco spat, and with that, left the common room with everyone's eyes on Hermione. Ron's face was completely unforgiving, and suddenly she became increasingly aware of the look on Harry's face.  
"It was MALFOY?!" He asked, and Ron looked back at Harry, then directly at her, and she knew he wanted to either cry or hit her.  
"Ron..."  
"Fuck you. Fucking muggle-born..._ slut_."

* * *

**_AAAAAAAAAH! Drama, drama, drama! Be prepared for more in the coming chapters! Please review. I'm waiting ten reviews until I update again!_**


	20. 3Ternity, Part One

**Chapter Twenty: 3Ternity; _Part One_  
**  
Now, Hermione understood why people killed themselves. After Draco had drunkenly confessed everything to Ron in the middle of Gryffindor tower, the entire school had seemed to cease any contact with her. She could never wait for her classes to end, and was not even that excited when she found she'd made all A's on her exams. What good were A's when your boyfriend (or ex, as she'd come to assume) thought you were a whore, and his two friends had stopped talking to you altogether? Ginny and Harry had been so truly disgusted with her that she now sat alone at breakfast, the entire school's eyes on her. Even Draco wasn't wasting his time with her after she'd rejected him. She was, as she had been the first week of school, utterly alone and friendless.  
Even Lisette had become more drawn away from her, and had applied to live separately from Hermione next year. She should still hear Lisette screaming at her. How _dare_ she get with Draco! Draco was Lisette's bang buddy, and no one else's. Hermione had been locked out of their bathroom a total of seven times.  
But now she had a secret. She had someone else whose life she was screwing up. She sat in the library by herself all over again, reading up on childbirth and anything she could do to prepare herself for something she was sure she would have to do all on her own now. She was even too afraid to go to her mother, as her parents had made it abundantly clear that if she ever purposely did anything to screw up her life, they would have no part in it. She was now completely alone.  
But for some reason, she still wanted to go to the club. Call it stupid girly beliefs, but growing up in the muggle world, she'd heard many fairy tales about white horses and Prince Charmings. So maybe Ron wasn't her prince, nor was Draco. But maybe he was there, at 3Ternity, waiting for her and a baby that wasn't his and a heart he didn't deserve.

* * *

Draco stared at himself in the mirror again; irritated that he couldn't get his fucking part straight. But that wasn't what was bothering him. Pansy was giving him the silent treatment ever since he hadn't been able to...ahem... perform last Friday, and now half of the school hated him for publicly embarrassing whom-was-to-be the Future Head Girl. But not anymore. He was sure that after the word officially got out to the staff, Hermione would be dropped from the running indefinitely. And he didn't quite know how he felt about it.  
Sure, she deserved it for turning him down, but for the rest of that Friday night, he hadn't been able to shut his eyes without seeing her face brimming with tears. He had hurt her. He had simply wanted to destroy her and Ron's relationship, which he had succeeded admirably in, but watching her about to cry... that had been too much.  
"Are you done primping, you bloody poof?" Blaise asked from his place on the thick black leather couch, flipping a galleon up and down. He looked bored as Crabbe and Millicent proceeded to make out on the opposing couch and Goyle looked completely interested in the chocolate frog card.  
"Fuck it, I'm not going." He said, waving his hand in front of the mirror as it clouded back over to reveal their animal: a snake.  
"Because you're afraid your hair looks like shite?"  
"Because I'm going to have a bad time. I might as well just go home and listen to my father molest housemaids."  
"But you can do that any time, Draco. If you want, we can all go and grin on all of the Gryffindors who think they're so bloody cool. And we'll find you a nice little escort since Pansy seems-"  
"More interested in you than me."  
"That's bollocks, Malfoy and you know it. Let's go, the carriages leave in twenty minutes."  
"I'm not going."  
"Yes, you are."

* * *

3Ternity was everything that the students thought it would be. The doors were large and sprawling, with gargoyles and angels and children's faces moving slowly throughout concrete as a large sign above the door read: **_ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE_**. The students entered first, a room decorated entirely in black and white, where smoke drifted all around the bottom of the floor, and ghosts flew back and forth from the DJ booth to the bar. Around the DJ floated seven or eight different vinyl albums, all spinning at different speeds and creating a quite odd trance-like beat that filled the room as the drinks, which were fittingly black white and gray were passed around the room and seemed to glow and spin with liquid smoke inside.  
"Oh my goodness, Ron, do you get it?!" Parvati explained, turning around and smiling.  
"No."  
"It's Purgatory!"  
"What the heck is-"  
"Remember in Muggle Studies when we had to read the Dante trilogy?" Harry responded, summoning a glass of Grey Goose vodka.  
"Yeah?"  
"Well this is Purgatory – the center."  
"Oh my Merlin's beard! I'm going to go upstairs!" Lavender exclaimed, climbing up the silver glittery spiral staircase that headed into a brightly lit room painted with clouds, and a bright rolling baby blue fog drifted across the ceiling. A few nude women floated about on clouds, their unmentionables covered up by long white feathery wings and halos and harps, and fabulous silver tattoos snaked around their bodies as more soothing music (that sounded a bit like the Muggle band, Enya, to Harry) played. The drinks served were baby blue and white and silver and gold. Upstairs was portrayed as Heaven, but the bottom floor, the floor below the entrance, was of course where all the Slytherins felt most comfortable. Hell.  
Red and orange flames climbed up the walls, and the entire room seemed wavy, as it was bewitched to resemble mirage heat. Metal shackles and pitchforks stuck out of the walls, and a man, who must have weighed over 300 pounds sat painted red, high in a black throne, surrounding by laughing little goblins, had thorns coming out from his forehead as he played several albums, all hard and metal and screeching. This man was the Muggle representation of Satan, and he laughed, loudly cheering on the dancers who drank their blood-red fire whiskey as gold and red glitter rained down from the ceiling in a never-ending cascade that was made to resemble sulfur.  
Draco, of course, sat with his fellow Slytherins, laughing loudly as he did another shot of something he'd never heard of called whiskey. It burned his throat a bit, but he liked it.  
"I don't understand this place. It's the most Muggle-oriented club I've been to!" Blaise said over the loud, throbbing rap rock.  
"I'm loving it!" Millicent said, standing up to go dance with Pansy.  
"They do that just to bug us, you know!" Crabbe exclaimed, and laughed as the three other boys nodded, watching the two witches grind and dance upon each other until it looked like they were dry-fucking.  
"Well well well, if it isn't the wolf in sheep's clothing!" Blaise proclaimed, pointing up as someone very familiar was making her way down the stairs into Hell.  
Hermione Granger's hair was curled wildly, and sprayed down with silver glitter and wrapped around her shoulders beautifully. She did, however, have a bit of unkempt pudge exposed from the bottom of her black corset, and the glitter that wrapped about her white leather pants spun wildly to the music.  
Draco took another shot, and looked away, not wanting to be in the same room with her. But there was no escape without being obvious.  
"Damn, Draco, she looks good!" Goyle added, and he shrugged, agreeing internally. Hermione did look good, but there was still a far away look of pain in her eyes. She looked around for a second, her chocolate eyes surrounded by silver glitter, and they suddenly widened when she smiled at someone at the bar. And Draco looked up just in time to hear her yell-  
"VIKTOR!"

* * *

**To be continued....**


	21. 3Ternity, Part Two

Chapter Twenty: 3Ternity; Part Two  
  
She had to admit that she hadn't been planning to see Viktor at the club, especially this far away from Durmstrang, but it also hadn't crossed her mind that he was now nearly twenty, and was no doubt out of school and free to roam as he pleased. He smiled and intercepted her in a hug, and spoke loudly as to be heard over the music.  
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, HERM-OWN-NINNY?"  
"OH MY WHOLE SCHOOL GOT INVITED, WELL, THE SIXTH AND SEVENTH YEARS!"  
"I MEAN, WHEN I SAY THE 'HERE' I MEAN, WHY ARE YOU IN HELL?" He asked, sipping a tall glass of something clear with a red worm slithering around inside.  
"OH WELL A GIRL'S GOT TO HAVE A BIT OF VARIETY IN HER LIFE, AY?" She said, smiling as she sat down next to him, as he waved his wand a bit and a drink appeared in front of her. "OH THANKS, VIKTOR BUT I AM NOT DRINKING."  
"IT IS NO LIQUOR."  
"OH... THANKS!" She said, and took a sip, feeling the cold liquid slide down her throat. She was glad that there was finally someone around who didn't know that she was a horrible whore. And a pregnant whore, at that.  
"SO HOW ARE YOU LATELY?!" She asked, and he smiled.  
"I GOOD. MY CONTRACT FOR QUIDDITCH IS RENEWED FOR NEXT SEASON, SO I WILL BE PLAYING."  
"HOW FUN! MAYBE I'LL GO CHECK OUT A GAME OR SOMETHING!"  
"YOU MUST! WILL BE PLAYING THE CANNONS SOON," he replied, smiling as Hermione eyed him. He was always the sweetest of sweethearts. But she felt herself suddenly get dizzy when her eyes fell to his hand. On his left ring finger was a tiny gold band.  
"VIKTOR! ARE YOU MARRIED?!" She asked, astonished, smiling politely.  
"NO! NO NOT YET. MY UVERENOST - I THINK YOU CALL IT FIANCEE - IS NO HERE TONIGHT."  
"YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED, VIKTOR?! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!"  
"I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU WHEN I WROTE YOU, BUT I AM BEEN SO BUSY WITH QUIDDITCH AND PLANNING. YOU STILL LIVE IN LONDON, YES?"  
"YES! SEND ME AN OWL!" She said, still feigning happiness. Her knight in shining armor had been shot down over Normandy. He looked up at the clock on the wall, and smiled.  
"I MUST GO... BALL AND CHAIN. YOU WILL WRITE ME, YES?"  
"YES!" She replied, and he snapped his fingers, suddenly apparating right away. And she felt her heart getting sick again. Was everyone in the world other than her happy?  
"Warum das lange Gesicht, Liebchen?" a voice near her asked, and she turned her head looking confused. Was 3Ternity Diagon Alley's new European cultural melting pot?  
"Excuse me?" She asked the man, who had moved a bit closer to her than she would have like.  
"Oh, I'm so sorry. You're British. I apologize."  
"Do I look German?" She asked snarkily, wishing she was able to drink.  
"I asked why the long face, darling?"  
"I don't know you, so please don't call me darling."  
"Wanna get a room?"  
"Excuse me?"  
"You're hot."  
"I'm sixteen."  
"So?"  
"Please don't talk to me anymore, sir." She said, and suddenly his hand gripped hers. She yanked it back and was reaching for her wand when she suddenly saw that an unseen force blew him back. She turned around to see who'd done it, and her mouth dropped in awe when she caught a glimpse of Blaise Zabini tucking his wand away in his pants.

"Asshole," he said, smirking.  
"What did you do?"  
"A little bit of expelliarmus, knocked him back."  
"Why?"  
"He looked like he was bugging you."  
"Look, Blaise, I don't know what you're getting at but please leave me alone. The last thing I need is some Carrie-esque torture that you and your fellow snakes are cooking up to further ruin my life."  
"What the hell is Carrie? Look, Granger, there's no one down here in Hell anymore but me. The three stooges decided the music and drinks were better in Purgatory. How 'bout you let me buy you a drink?"  
"I'm not-"  
"Drinking. I know. I heard. How about a nice virgin strawberry daiquiri? You'll hurt my feelings if you say no."  
"Fine, but only because you got rid of the Horny Hitler over there."

**

* * *

**

****

**To be continued...**


	22. 3Ternity, Part Three

**PunkRockPrincess**: The Horny Hitler thing was not an insult to all German people. I would NEVER do that, seeing as a lot of my friends are of German descent. It was merely a way of Hermione insulting that ONE PARTICULAR rude German guy. Die Deutsch sind mein Liebling!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: 3Ternity, Part Three**  
  
Draco leaned back, a bit dizzy from all of the drinks he'd consumed, and the area behind his eyeballs were starting to spin. It had been Pansy's idea to move up from Hell to Purgatory. He'd seen her talking quietly with Blaise as he'd knocked back more red fire whiskey in Hell after Granger entered. And two shots later, Millicent and her had announced that going upstairs would be a good idea.  
But he had to admit that true to mythology, he found Purgatory kind of bland. The fog that swirled around his feet had been mildly entertaining, but the clown-like creatures above him were starting to make him uneasy. Draco sighed, and turned, a bit too quickly for his liking, as he suddenly became even more unbalanced and had to steady himself against the stairs. As he did this, he bumped into a fellow club-goer and she spun around, her short reddish hair with blonde streaks hanging sweaty on her face, and she was oddly familiar.  
"Oh my goodness, Draco, is that you?" He narrowed his eyes, trying to steady them and make out whom this girl was.  
"Sadie?"

* * *

Hermione never thought she would have found herself sitting next to Blaise Zabini on a couch in Hell. She sipped on her blood-red strawberry daiquiri, and wasn't even that perturbed that the few strawberries inside had been bewitched to resemble beating hearts. The only thing that seemed to be getting to her right now was the heat that engulfed the room. She wondered if any of the more upward floors were this hot.  
"So why did everyone go to Purgatory?" She asked, smiling and he shrugged, reaching into his pocket and offering her a cigarette. Hermione politely declined.  
"Everyone went to Purgatory because they weren't baptized," he joked, and she laughed along with him. He was drinking, rather quickly she noticed, but his jovial attitude was not at all intimidating. She was glad at finally being able to talk to someone who wasn't going to spring his engagement on her or proposition her. "No, I'm joshing, of course. Millicent and Pansy said they liked the drinks better. I'm more partial to drinks that aren't quite so sissy if you catch my drift," he replied, and she nodded, feeling uncomfortable from the amount of sweat that was probably filling the leather pants. "I like your trousers," he said, gesturing to the glitter swirls.  
"Thanks. I got them in Hogsmeade."  
"When did you go to Hogsmeade? I mean, surely you wouldn't have known ahead of time to buy such... attention-grabbing slacks."  
"Well, I went on Friday. The night you and your friends had the-"she stopped herself, realizing that she didn't want to discuss that night any farther.  
"Party?" He asked, obviously not gaining the signals that she sent him about her dislike in discussing the matter. "Look, I thought what Draco did to you was really rude. I mean, him spouting off about your private matters like that... and in front of everyone."  
"Do you believe what he said?" She asked, wondering if anyone at Hogwarts even had a doubt.  
"I don't know. You don't seem like the type to sink to Malfoy. I always saw you as a girl of quite admirable standards."  
"You did?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow.  
"Yeah, that does sound like a line, doesn't it?" He smirked.

* * *

"What are you doing here?!" Sadie asked, looking somewhat worried as he plopped himself down on the stairs. Her hair looked much better for it was not as jagged and haphazardly cut as it had been the night she had been his gift. Her eyes were laced in glitter just as Hermione's had been, and she actually looked as if she was having a good time.  
"My school got invited. Half-off," he said, looking around to make sure Pansy wouldn't suddenly jet off into possessive-mode when seeing him with another girl. What was she doing out? Hadn't he told her to disappear after he'd let her go? And now she was prancing about scantily-clad, her Malfoy-branded back exposed to all of Diagon Alley. Was she CRAZY?! "If you don't mind me asking, how did you get in? I mean, aren't you, like, thirteen?"  
"I turned fourteen two weeks ago, and my aunt got me this really cool fake I.D. All the information on it is true like my name and stuff but we just changed the birthdate. That way it's hard to tell if it's fake." she said, smiling and popping her shoulders cutely as he smiled, slightly tipsy.  
"Can I see it?"  
"Um, I dunno," she said, seeming suddenly quite ill at ease and looking around for support.  
"Why not?"  
"I just don't think it's a good idea."  
"Come on, Sadie, it's just a fucking I.D. It's not like I'm going to call some muggle police. Give me your purse." Normally he wouldn't have cared, but as with all things, his denial of it only made it that much more appealing.  
"No," she said, and turned to walk away before, reacting to primal reflex, Draco managed to shoot out his arm and yank her purse from her. "Hey!" She yelled, but before she could stop him, he got a glance at her identification card, and felt his stomach churn at the sight of her name.  
"Sadie..._Lestrange?"_

__

* * *

"No, but seriously, he came crying to me and was like 'Oh Blaise! Don't let him turn me back into a ferret! _Oh Merlin_!" Blaise elaborated on a few of Malfoy's exploits, with a very entertained Hermione by his side. She was now laughing quite loudly, and was on her third virgin daiquiri. Suddenly she stopped laughing and very concentrating, put her drink down on the table that jerked a little, as it was indeed a bewitched table resembling thousands of little intertwined scorpions that had their tails wrapped around each other.  
"Blaise, can I ask you something?"  
"Yeah, sure, Granger, go ahead."  
"Why are you in Slytherin? I mean, Merlin, you seem so nice and sweet and... jovian."  
"Jovial?"  
"Whatever. So why aren't you in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor?"  
"Because I'm ambitious, sweetheart. As are you."  
"Yes, I am. Yes I am ambitious. Thank you for noticing, Blaise," she laughed, and felt the room still getting hotter as she now felt dizzy and faint. "Are these really virgins?" She asked, looking at her drink closely. The beating strawberries still pulsed, and Blaise nodded.  
"Not a drop of alcohol in them," he said, truthfully, and got up. "Let me get you another."

* * *

Draco sat on the couch, his head spinning. Bellatrix, by the common practice of pureblood children only marrying other purebloods was probably just one or two bloodlines away from being his aunt, that made Sadie his second or third cousin. His FUCKING COUSIN! Shit. He needed to do something about this right now. Right now right now right now. Where was Crabbe? He stood up and looked around for his goon, but saw only Goyle talking to some girl who was more than likely a vampire.  
"Goyle!" He yelled, and was quite angry when he didn't warrant an immediate response. "GOYLE!"  
"What?"  
"Where's Crabbe?"  
"Off with Millicent. I think they went into the girls' lavatory or something. Why?"  
"None of your bloody business," he said and headed off to Heaven, where the bathrooms were. He thought it was truly a dastardly design to make one climb stairs while they had to pee. And when he waltzed into the girls' lavatory, he felt sick and leaned back against the wall, the cold porcelain searing into his neck. A few of the girls in the room looked at him as he wiped his forehead, the bathroom's bewitched candles flickering and making its shadows dance. The girls said something about him being sick and about to "vom," so they fled quickly, leaving him to clench and heave on the floor.  
"CRABBE!" Draco yelled, and he heard a sudden thud in one of the stalls. He looked up, attempting to regain his composure, and stood up.  
"What?" He heard, and Crabbe exited the stall, looking a bit winded and disheveled.  
"Do you have anything on you?"  
"What?"  
"You know what I mean, don't play with me right now! Fuck!" Draco yelled, breathing hard as Crabbe looked at him skeptically.  
"Are you strung out right now, Draco?"  
"No," he said, inhaling deeply as he tried to slow his heart down. It was beating so quickly he feared that it would jump out of his chest and strangle Crabbe. He laughed at the thought for a second, but then opened his eyes and looked at him. "I'm just... not having a really good time and I wanna make it better."  
"I have some root, but-"  
"I need something stronger than that. Do you have a spot of Ovis or something?"  
"Draco, I don't know, with what you've been drinking, I don't think that you want any Oviscopum and-"  
"I DON'T CARE CRABBE, NOW DO YOU HAVE ANY OR NOT?!"  
"No," he said, stepping back, obviously a bit afraid of Draco as he had always been.  
"Where is it? I thought you were bringing some."  
"Well, I did and Blaise bought it all."  
"Blaise?" He asked, quirking up his eyebrows. He knew that Blaise was never one to experiment with such hard drugs. Especially one as debilitating and unpredictable as Oviscopum. "What would he want it for?"

* * *

"I think I'm coming down with something," Hermione said lowly, leaning back on the couch as Blaise looked at her with an almost sincere version of concern.  
"Have you been sick lately?" He asked.  
"No," she lied, and felt the couch gathering up around her. Blaise, of course, watched her slowly laying down on the thick black leather, and sighed, crawling over to her.  
"Come on, let's get you out of here." And everything went black. 


	23. Malfoy Manor

**Chapter 21: Malfoy Manor**  
  
Hermione tensed as she suddenly came to consciousness, but was wary of opening her eyes. She could remember vaguely tiny details of the night before, but it all came in petite flashes like when she'd struggled to remember dreams. She could remember hearts beating, German she misunderstood that sounded like angry dwarfs spitting, something sad about Viktor... then sight was gone. She had heard a few words floating towards her, and hearing the sound of skin hitting skin, and then a tremendous feeling of speed and weightlessness, but nothing that could inform her of what had truly transpired at the club or outside. She felt silk sheets enveloping her, and as she moved her nude, hairless legs about in the bed, Hermione was suddenly aware of an intense burning feeling on the back of her neck.  
  
Inhaling deeply, she opened her eyes.  
  
Surrounding her were green and gold and lime sheets, with fur and feather pillows. The bed she lay in was completely unrecognizable and like nothing she'd ever seen before – metal, hanging from the ceiling by large thick chains. Turning around, she saw a foot-by-foot piece of glass just floating in mid-air. On it was a picture frame and a candle. A woman in the picture frame smiled and laughed, holding up an unnaturally blonde baby. She then recognized this woman. Narcissa Malfoy. She was in Draco's house.

* * *

Draco stabbed the last of his eggs with a fork, and noted that he was no longer hungry, placing it down.  
"Are you not going to finish your breakfast?" Lucius asked, staring down his son from across the table.  
"No."  
"What time did you end up coming home last night? I thought you were going to stay in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade for a spot with Blaise or something now that you're done with Hogwarts until September."  
"I'd rather have my balls yanked off and singed to my forehead."  
"Well, that's certainly... colorful mealtime conversation." Draco's father said, shrugging to a nearby house elf that nodded diligently. "Is something bothering you, Draco?"  
"No, father, my life is just one big fucking ball of sunshine."  
"You're being rather candid this morning."  
"I'm going to my room."

* * *

Hermione's heart was racing as she looked down and realized that she was dressed, albeit in a long thick Quidditch jersey that was green and silver. Getting up, she jumped off the bed quickly and looked in a nearby mirror. Merlin's beard, she looked like shite. Her hair was matted and bushy and her face held a pale color about it that she'd had nearly every day for the last month or so only after throwing up. She walked towards what looked to be the bedroom door, but it was more an interlocking collection of dragons, and she stared hard at it, trying to figure out how to get it open.  
"DAMMIT!" She yelled, pacing wildly. Her neck still burned, so she soon located his joining lavatory. The bathroom was actually quite tidy and well decorated for a teenage boy, and Hermione was sure that his mother had designed it, and their servants cleaned up after Draco quite a bit. She stared in the mirror at her light purple under eye circles and the sight made her cringe. She reached around for the small silver hand mirror that was hanging on the wall and held it up.  
A scream escaped her throat as she saw that on the back of her neck was a burn mark that started in the center and covered nearly her entire nape. It was dark red and pink, and had an even darker, almost black epicenter. What the hell was this thing? She looked up as the door opened, and she ran out of the bathroom.  
Draco stared at her, and she was rather thrown off by the sight of him in something other than his school uniform or Quidditch robes. He stood before her; dressed casually in a pair of black slacks and a loose fitting t-shirt that could have almost been purchased at a muggle mall was it not for the words "GOBLINSPANK" – a popular wizard rock band – across the front. He stood there, frozen, waiting for her reaction.  
"Tell me right now."  
"Tell you what, Granger?"  
"For starters!" She began, flustered and angry, charging at him. "Why am I in your house and your clothes and what happened when I got to the club last night and why is there a burn on my neck and-"  
"How long have you known you were pregnant?" He interrupted her, and she felt her blood go cold. A thousand thoughts rushed through her head, and she suddenly went faint. It was enough for her to walk languidly and slouch onto his bed as he stared her down.  
"Did Pansy tell you?"  
"No. You did."  
"What?" She asked, attempting to find a string or something to tie her hair back.  
"What all do you remember of last night?"  
"Entering the club. Why? What happened?" She asked, and Draco sighed, running his hands through his tousled bed hair.  
"Alright," he said, sitting on an overstuffed leather couch in his room.  
  
_ Draco sank back down into Hell from his place in Heaven's bathrooms, looking quickly for Blaise. Where the hell was he? Draco desperately wanted drugs more than anything else at the moment, but was rather irritated when he didn't see Blaise. Maybe Hermione had seen where he went – no, she would definitely not talk to him. Not after Friday. Stupid temperamental whore.  
Stumbling around, he tripped over the unconscious body of a bar patron – a German looking guy. Looking up, he saw the bartender laugh slightly.  
"What happened to him?"  
"Started picking up on this pretty little Hogwarts bird. But she was a bit against it and then your friend blasted him."  
"My friend?"  
"Yeah, that brunette bloke with the spiky hair?"  
"Where'd he go? Did you see him leave?" Draco asked, praying silently that Blaise was still in the building.  
"Yeah, he went to the inn with that same girl. Poor dear was pissed off her arse. Almost unconscious."  
"Which room?"  
"Can't tell you that, now can I?" Draco sighed and rolled his eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out 21 galleons. "Room 7."  
Rushing up the spiraling stairs, Draco pushed open the door without knocking, and was caught incredibly off-guard.  
"Blaise, what the fuck are you doing?"  
"So what? We're not knocking now?" He said, and Malfoy took in the sight before him. Hermione, barely coherent and mumbling to herself about broken shoes or something was on the bed, and the fly of her pants was opened. Blaise however, was in nothing but a pair of boxer-briefs.  
"What in the blazes is going on?"  
"Draco, get the fuck out!"  
"Is she stoned?"  
"Yes!"  
"I'm not letting you do this," he said, stepping forward and found himself suddenly blocked. But not by a wand. Draco wanted to drop his jaw at Blaise's audacity in attempting to stop him with his own stupid human arm.  
"Draco, we had a deal, okay? So just back off and run back to your simpering little girlfriend."  
"What deal, Blaise? You and me had a deal?"  
"What's your is mine."  
"Oh, sod that deal, I didn't mean her, she's not mine. Now, normally I would jump in there with you and toss that dog a bone myself but I really don't need another 'messing with magical herbs' slap on my wrist, okay? Do you wanna go to Azkaban?"  
"Fucking grow up, Malfoy."  
"I don't want to have to hurt you."  
"Oh really, with what wand? They didn't strip me of mine," Blaise said, grabbing the long, unicorn hair wand out of his pants, which happened to be within reaching distance. He pressed it to Draco's head, who tensed, staring down Blaise with daggers. "Hermione, baby doll, take off your clothes."  
"No," she said, leaning back on the bed.  
"Do it. Come on, make me smile," he said, shoving his wand into his undershorts.  
"Blaise, I don't think I should. It's just not a good idea."  
"Why?"  
"Idunwannasay."  
"It's a great idea, Hermione. I'll make you feel beautiful."  
"Blaise, just fucking stop it, okay? What if she O.D.'s?" Draco asked, feeling the temperature in the room rise a few degrees.  
"She'll be fine."  
"No I won't." They looked at her. "The entire world hates me, and I can't go home because... Ah, fuck it." She slurred, twitching a bit.  
"What?" Draco asked, hoping to distract Blaise.  
"Fine! Who cares? The whole world hates me anyways. I'm pregnant," she spat. With this, Blaise's stare turned from her to Draco._

_ "What?"_

__

* * *

"You're sure she's there?"  
"Yes, Dippy said he saw Draco bringing home an unconscious girl late last night, Lord."  
"With your son's bedside manner, it could truly be anyone."  
"No, my Lord. He called her Hermione and ordered that she be changed for bed."  
"Is she pregnant?"  
"I don't know."  
"Find out."  
"He's not going to tell me anything. After all that Sadie told us, I doubt he'd even mention if he was going bald or something."  
"Death Eaters do not keep secrets from me, Lucius. Get control of your son or you just might lose him. And your possible grandchild."

* * *

"I told you?" Hermione asked after hearing Draco's tale.  
"Yeah, you did. How long have you known?"  
"About a month and a half. I found out around a month after-"  
"Me or Ron?"  
"What?"  
"Whose baby is it?"  
"I – I don't know."  
"Well it's kind of important."  
"Why? Like you care."  
"I do care. I mean, if that's my kid - I have certain...rights."  
"I was planning to handle it on my own. I mean, I could get rid of it but there's so much red tape I'd have to go through with the Ministry and I'd have to get my parents' permission for an abor... and I just couldn't do it." She spat in one quick breath. "So, I mean, I drunkenly told you I was pregnant. What happened next?"  
"I hit him."  
"You hit him?"  
"Well he laughed at me. You said you were pregnant and he laughed at me. So I punched him. And then we started fighting and the bartender came in and all he saw was Blaise in his underwear pinning me to the ground, and you had passed out on the bed and he told me that 3Ternity wasn't 'that sort of establishment' and told us to get out. So I took you."  
"You took me out of the club?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Why?"  
"Because you were unconscious in a bar. I didn't want anyone messing with the possible vessel for my child."  
"Is that all I am?"  
"So I flagged the Knight Bus had them take me back here. Then I got you dressed by the elves."  
"And that's all that happened?"  
"Yeah."  
"What about the burn on my neck?"  
  
_ Draco sighed in relief as he saw the triple-decker purple bus come swinging around the corner. He'd only seen his father use the thing once before, when there had been a sudden raid on a Death Eater rally and they needed to leave town quickly. He quickly tucked his wand away and smirked as it pulled up next to him.  
"'Ello Malfoy."  
"Hey Stan."  
"Stan the Man, 'at's my name. Where you be needin' to go, then?"  
"Can you take me and her back to Magi Proper?"  
"Oh, Magi Proper, ay? Looks like we're taking you home. Back with the big boys."  
"Just go," he said, and walked onto the bus, giving Stan the fare and tossing Hermione's now limp unconscious figure onto one of the free- floating beds. He sat on one of his own, breathing out tensely, and then looking at her again. She was pregnant? Running his hands through his hair and staring at her – the future mother of his child. But was it his child? It could just as easily be Ron's and – what was happening?  
Hermione had twitched only a little at first in the room, and now her. But suddenly she seemed kind of rigid. And she was twitching now, but it was obviously more violent. Her face had turned a rather bluish-white color and she was shaking.  
"Whass happenin' to her?" Stan asked, suddenly looking concerned. And the realization suddenly hit Draco like a stack of stones. She was overdosing. How much had Blaise given her? He reached around quickly into his pocket, but suddenly remembered that he was wandless. If he couldn't find a wand soon, she would be dead.  
"Stan, let me have your wand."  
"Dun got one."  
"What?!"  
"The ole Boss man won't let me carry it on the job no more, not ever since I blasted a man for not payin' his fare. Says its bad for business. Why?"  
"Just... ah, shit!" He spat, looking down at Hermione's eyes, which were now rolling back in her head. "Hermione, where's your wand? Can you hear me? Fuck!" He felt along her leather slacks, and quickly found relief as he touched her wand, tucked into the inseam. He reached into her trousers, his hand sliding across her smooth, but now cold and clammy skin. Pulling the wand out, he managed to turn her over in the middle of quite a violent seizure, and pointed the wand to the back of her neck.  
"Immobilus! Stupify!" He said, and she stopped moving, and fell unconscious. He breathed out a sigh of relief, and prepared the incantation, which would rid the body of the drugs, but he knew how painful the burn was. How painful it had been. But rather than delay his words and let the poisons course through her body – closer and closer to reaching the baby, he spoke softly – "Purificatem." And the tip of his wand turned red._  
  
Hermione looked up from her spot on Draco's bed, and wiped away the wetness on her cheeks.  
"You saved my life?"  
"Don't start calling me a hero, alright? If that baby is mine, I had to protect it."  
"Why?"  
"Because."  
"That's not a good enough answer. I mean, why does everyone do this?" She said, her voice breaking. Draco, insanely uncomfortable in the presence of a crying woman, tucked his hands into his pockets and stared at the floor.  
"What do you mean?"  
"_Attempt to ruin my life?!_ No one is ever able to leave well enough alone when it comes to me! You tormented me every day for the past six years and then suddenly I'm going to have some stupid kid running around and I try to handle it on my own! I wanted to do it on my fucking own so no one could screw me over, and _THEN YOU SHOW UP_! You show up and you manage to, in one fail swoop, turn everyone I know against me only to have... the first person who was nice to me at that club be engaged and the second one try to..." she stopped her, holding her breath and pressing her lips together. She moved her shaking hand back over her hair and let it sit, covering her burn for a bit. "Draco, what if something happens to the baby?"  
"I don't know what to say."  
"I don't have anywhere to go. I can't go home because my parents will just kick me right back out. And.... I can't stay with Ron anymore because he thinks I'm just a common tramp."  
"I don't know what to –"Draco began, but was silenced quickly by a loud, furious knocking on his door. It was loud, and slow. He opened the door just a crack, and was suddenly pushed aside by Lucius, who blew into the room, his cape floating behind him like the wings of a vicious crow. He looked down at Draco for a split second, then pounced towards the bed, wrapping his cold and thin fingers around Hermione's neck. 


	24. Happy Families

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Happy Families**

After Harry had managed to return to the Dursleys for the night, Ron woke up to the smell of breakfast being made downstairs, and it made his stomach turn. He really wanted to just get up and figure out what fabulous spell could block out smell.  
"Hey Ron" He heard, along with two sets of feet thundering up the stairs. The door burst open, and he was soon aware of the twins in his room. "'Mornin' little brother" Fred said, strolling over to the bed. "Mum is making"  
"Pancakes, downstairs."  
"You should come." Ron opened his eyes, and wished he hadn't. The sunlight streamed harshly in through the windows and caught on the smiling faces of his brothers. He sighed, and his feet and arms felt like lead.  
"I'll be fine here."  
"Mum wants you to come downstairs."  
"Look, we know what happened and"  
"George"  
"It's really not your fault so you shouldn't miss a scrum-diddly- umptious breakfast over a whore like that."  
"She's not- ugh, fine" Ron said, throwing a shirt on over his pair of pajamas pants and stepping slowly down the stairs, his footfalls echoing throughout the awkward silence that plagued the downstairs. Three more sets of eyes were staring up at him from the breakfast table, and Ron could tell that Ginny had already informed his entire family of the breakup.  
He sat, and stared dead ahead as his mother placed down an abnormally large stack of pancakes before him.  
"I made your favorite... there's some butterscotch syrup if you want it."  
"These are fine, mum. They're great, thanks." He said, and got up to make himself a glass of milk, hearing clanks and hushed whispers behind him. When he sat back down, he went ahead and poked the stack of pancakes, only to have it shoot syrup right back at him.  
"Hahahaha" George chortled, and Ginny's face turned red as she turned angrily to him.  
"I told you – I told him not to, Ron."  
"No, Ginny. It's fine. I don't care" he said, and gave the pancakes a tap with his wand. He continued eating, covered in syrup, as the silence in the room continued. The complete lack of noise was quite uncomfortable, seeing as it didn't happen often in the Weasley home, and it was only when a knock sounded on the door that the silence was broken.  
"Oh thank you, Merlin" Mrs. Weasley said under her breath and smiled. "Oh Harry! What a wonderful surprise! Come in! Have a spot of breakfast. Ginny, dear, Harry's here" she said, and Ginny smiled as Fred rolled his eyes and got up from his spot next to her. "Thanks."  
Fred sat down on the opposite side of George, near Ron as Harry walked in and cracked a smile before standing behind Ginny's chair, looking at Ron.  
"Hey baby, how'd you get here" She asked, tilting her head back to look at him and he smiled, kissing her upside down quickly before moving to the kitchen and taken the out held plate from Mrs. Weasely.  
"I took a bus."  
"Did you really? A muggle bus" Arthur said congenially, perking up. Harry laughed under his breath and sat down after Molly had loaded his plate with nearly everything that he'd ever heard was possible to eat at breakfast.  
"Yeah, it was fine. A bit smelly and I ended up next to some old woman with this wheezy nose that made a whistle-y noise when she inhaled, but it was fine other than that."  
"Sounds like lots of fun" Arthur replied.  
"So..." He said, leaning over to Ginny and attempting to speak quietly enough so Ron couldn't hear. "How's he doing" And this was the last straw. Ron slammed down his fork hard enough to make Mrs. Weasley jump.  
"I'm right here, Harry. Please don't act like I'm wearing your fucking Invisibility Cloak, okay"  
"RONALD" Molly yelled, dropping her plate in shock.  
"Yeah, Ron, calm down, he's just being your friend" Ginny cried, standing up from her spot on the table.  
"Baby..."  
"No, Harry. I won't let him talk to you like that" she said as he stood up and took her hands and forced her to look at him. "He's being such a"  
"I can handle my own fights, sweetheart" Harry said, kissing her forehead.  
And Ron stood up and knocked his chair over as he stomped towards the stairs in a hurried huff.  
"_Ronald Gilderoy Weasely!_ You come back down here this instant"  
"I refuse to sit at breakfast with those two slobbering all over each other right in front of me! It's bloody disgusting." He spat from the top of the stairs.  
"Look, Ron, just because I have an actual healthy relationship that doesn't involve whores and Malfoy"Ginny barked.  
"Ginny" cried Harry.  
"-doesn't mean that you can pass judgment whenever you want"  
"Oh? Oh you mean this healthy relationship between you and the Boy- Who-Lived"  
"Yes. Between me and Harry."  
"The only reason the two of you are even together still is because MY EX-GIRLFRIEND was kind enough to blast away your memories when the two of you got shitfaced and fucked each other the same night I lost my virginity to Hermione, okay! _LITTLE MISS FUCKING INNOCENT, HUH!_" He said and slammed the upstairs door to his room. And there Ginny and Harry sat, in the presence of her parents.  
"Awkward..." George whispered, taking a sip of orange juice.

* * *

Hermione screamed as Lucius burst in and gripped her neck tightly. And soon she felt herself being ripped from the bed and pinned up against the walls of Draco's room, his father's blisteringly cold hands on her skin.  
"What are you doing" Draco yelled, standing up.  
"Just relax, Draco, I'm not going to hurt her" he said coolly and smoothly, tossing aside his cane. He continued to pin her against the wall, and lifted up Draco's jersey.  
"What's he doing" She managed to cry out before Lucius removed his hand long enough to slap Draco away.  
"Will the two of you calm down? I would not hurt the mother of my grandchild."  
"What" Draco asked from the ground, standing up and wiping the blood away from the tiny cut on his lip.  
He re-inserted his hand underneath the jersey, as Hermione held her breath and felt her blood pump at a million kilometers a second from her heart. His hand, however, touched nothing, until it landed softly on the skin right above her underwear. Lucius shut his eyes and began to whisper incoherently. Intense dizziness and an accompanied head rush that started at the corners of her eyes suddenly overwhelmed Hermione, and soon everything went black again. But she didn't pass out. Oh no.  
A gentle humming coursed its way through her body from the spot on her stomach where Lucius had placed his hand. The vibrations seemed to be in every inch of her – in her eyes, her brain, her lungs, her toes. Tiny flashes of light flickered in her mind. But there was something behind them, something tiny and innocent. Something Hermione would die to protect, but what it was she couldn't quite tell.  
And then the flashes became more frequent, and brighter, until she saw more specifics. Tiny fingers and toes attached to petite little hands. It was a baby – her baby. The humming crew louder and more violently shaking her insides until she screamed – loudly, and her eyes shot open. And in this moment, Lucius removed his hand from her stomach and as she started to fall, he caught her face in his hands and stared into her eyes and her soul.  
"Well, what do you know? You are pregnant. Congratulations."  
"What" She whispered through the tears that started to fall from her eyes.  
"I don't understand" Draco said, picking up his father's cane and holding it out for him. "What did you do"  
"A type of physical legilimancy... quite difficult to hack into a mind that's not necessarily formed yet, and to get it to effect its surroundings is almost impossible."  
"What"  
"I had to make sure the baby was yours, Draco."  
"I don't understand."  
"Her eyes are blue now. It could only have done that if the blood that flowed through the baby's veins was yours – and partly mine. A powerful child lies in your womb, Miss Granger. A Malfoy child." He said smoothly, and turned to leave the room.  
"What" Hermione said from her spot on the ground on all fours. Lucius shut Draco's door and he walked toward her, helping her up. "He was inside my head. I could feel him in my blood..."  
"Get up. You're bleeding."  
"What" She asked, and he moved her in the bathroom where he saw that a tiny line of blood was dripping down from her nose over her lips. "Oh, Merlin..." she whispered, taking the held – out wad of toilet paper from Draco. As she put the white tissue to her nose, Hermione took another quick glance in the mirror. "Oh wow, my eyes are blue."  
"Yeah. You look great."  
"Why are they doing that"  
"It'll go away in a bit."  
"Has he done that to you before"  
"Not that, no. But he's done the inclemency only once when he thought I was lying to him. I wasn't, and it took my ears bleeding to get him to let me go."  
"I am sorry."

Hermione had been quite tired after her ordeal, and had made her way to Malfoy Manor's "Glass Room" to take a nap. Draco had always enjoyed how his mother had decorated that particular room. The walls and ceiling were giant mirrors, and the floor was white shag carpeting. But everything else in the room was glass, including the bed frame and side tables and the floating candelabras with the white candles that never seemed to melt down. Even the bed itself was a clear-waterbed with tiny white water nymphs inside it. The sheer sheets were filled with tiny white tufts of hippogriff down, and it was only a few seconds before Hermione had fallen into a deep sleep.  
Draco left, and walked slowly through his house. Family portraits lined the walls, going back hundreds of generations and each ancestor watched him pass by, their perpetual looks of control and power on their privileged faces as they asked Draco questions about her.  
"Who is the girl"  
"Smells dirty."  
"Probably some muggle in her no doubt."  
"Are you trying to shame our bloodline, Malfoy"  
"Sod off, Titus" he told his great-great-great-great-great grandfather's portrait as he made his way towards his father's study. He entered, and his father looked up from the book that was floating in front of him.  
"Oh, Draco, what a pleasure to see you. I figured we needed to have ourselves a talk."  
"Are you not mad at me or anything? I recall you stating at the beginning of the year that you wanted no mudblood heirs and now"  
"That was before the Dark Lord gave me such a generous offer. I'd tell you, but you must give me your oath, as my son, as a Malfoy, as a Death Eater, that you have dedicated yourself to the Lord's noble cause and are willing to do anything in your power to prove yourself."  
"I swear."  
"Hermione is carrying what could very well be the second coming of Lord Voldemort."  
"Excuse me"  
"There is an old ancient ceremony. If the Dark Lord is killed willingly before the midnight of your child's birth, his soul can then be transported into any innocent body. An innocent body through which flows the blood of one of his followers. The innocent body being"  
"My child."  
"Exactly. And so you and I would be responsible for raising the future Dark Lord. Don't you see, Draco? Everyone would think he's dead! No one would be expecting a second coming. They would have his very corpse before them! And you and I could be the ancestors of the most powerful dark wizard to reign. Twice. We could become gods."  
"Is this why you lied to be about mom? So I would knock up the mudblood? Why her"  
"The Dark Lord was a half-blood before, Draco. We needed a half-blood child again. Your child, and because it would also be the child of Hermione Granger, the child would always be very near"  
"Harry Potter."  
"It's the perfect opportunity for our Dark Lord's divine vengeance. So, Draco, are you willing to father the greatest dark lord to ever roam the Earth"  
"Yes, sir. Yes, sir. I am. I do have but one question, though."  
"Oh, and what would that be"  
"What if the baby is a girl" He asked, smiling.

* * *

Katca Mcadar: The thing about Hermione needing the Ministry's permission for an abortion goes like this - she'd do it magically, of course, and doing so would thus be using magic outside of school while she's underage. And seeing as she is underage, it would also be a concern of her parents. 


	25. Owling

**Thanks to all my reviewers!**

**ah: If you read my summary, the story is "rated R" for "language." If you'd like less swearing, read a PG or PG-13. I'm from the South and I'm Irish so I really enjoy cursing. I can't help it! Oh - and "fuck."**

**wired dud: I really enjoy criticism, so if you could just let me know WHERE it got uncool, it'd be a good thing. Thanks.**

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**Chapter Twenty-Three: Owling**  
  
Hermione had lied. She hadn't been tired, but the feeling of Lucius in her mind, and his grandchild in her stomach was far too much to handle. She'd so wanted the baby to be Ron's. If Ron had been the baby's father, life would be easier. She could run back to him. Apologize to him. She could have married him and joined the ever-large Weasley family and had about four or five more kids after this one, but now... she stroked her smooth skin that covered her stomach. Why had she chosen Draco? Maybe it had been the way he had looked at her, with such intense sadness, that night. Or the way he had seemed to disrespect her in the nicest ways possible whenever he'd pinned her against her bedroom wall. But then he had ruined everything and she was fucking stuck with him now. She tossed about in the bed, and looked towards the ceiling, but gasped slightly when she saw her reflection. Bollocks! Was there no escaping herself?  
The hippogriff down comforter enveloped her and she felt so incredibly comfortable in that bed, but the millions of thoughts running through her head plagued her. She needed to write a letter. Hermione got up, and, opening the door, spied a bypassing house elf.  
"Um, excuse me?" She sighed meekly, and the frazzled looking elf looked up.  
"Oh! What cans Kunko do for master's guest?" He asked in deep but frightened sounding voice. Hermione laughed and squatted until she was eye- level with him.  
"You don't need to serve me, Kunko, but I could definitely use some parchment and an owl if its not too much trouble."  
"Oh, whatever master's guests wants is not to much for Kunko!" He spat excitedly, and ran off. As he did so, he slipped and fell and soon Hermione saw why, as Draco rounded the corner.  
"Kunko apologizes for getting in master's well."  
"As right you should, Kunko, but erm... be on your way." He replied, and Kunko skitted off, frightened. Hermione stared him down from across the hall. "What?"  
"Why do you speak to him like that?"  
"Like what?"  
"Like he's your... servant."  
"Well, he is my servant. My fourteenth birthday present."  
"Your family disgusts me."  
"I'll chock that up to the mood swings."  
"Sod off, Malfoy," she said, turning back to enter the room. "I need to be getting back to my house soon. Where are my things?"  
"Oh? And how are your filthy muggle parents going to react when they find out you've got a bewitched bun in the oven? I reckon they'll throw you a disgusting party with ugly little blue and pink balloons and sing songs and shite. They'll be downright joyous, right?"  
"Well, no, but-"  
"So what are they gonna do, Granger? I don't know if you've noticed, but that child is half-mine. I have a say in where it goes."  
"Excuse me? The only say you had in this child involved a bunch of drugs and one really stupid weekend, okay? I can handle this on my own. I already told you."  
"Look," Draco said, stepping closer to her. "That baby is going to be so much more than my sperm. So much more than one orgasm on the bed of a grand-prefect."  
"What?"  
"I'll explain it all to you in a while. But as for now, my father is sending for your things."  
"Where did my things end up?"  
"They were on their way to your silly muggle suburb in London, but he managed to catch the courier-wizard who had them."  
"Why?"  
"Just for a few days until I can sit you down and let you know how things are going to be."

* * *

Uncle Vernon looked up as Harry burst through the front door, tossing his trunk furiously into the cupboard under the stairs and thundering up to his room.  
"Hey, boy! I thought you were staying with those bloody freaks for the summer!"  
"Shut up, Uncle Vernon!"  
"What are you doing home?!" He yelled angrily up the stairs.  
"I don't want to talk about it, just forget I exist, okay? For once I want you to, okay?!" Harry cried, and Vernon shrugged.  
  
Upstairs, Harry threw himself onto the bed and felt his blood coursing like fire through his veins. He'd been wondering for the last two months what the tiny flashes in his mind were. How he felt closer to Ginny than he should. And why his dreams had suddenly become the things of a channel Dudley watched on the three televisions in his room late at night.  
He should have known. But now he'd been kicked out of the Weasley house not by Ron or Fred or George or Arthur or Molly, but by Ginny. Ginny, who had cried for two hours while locked in the bathroom before telling him she hated him and to go home. Ginny, whom Harry had been thinking about non- stop since he'd fancied the first day of his sixth year. Why had it taken him so long to come around? And now she'd said she never wanted to his "fucking scarred up face" ever again.  
He looked up as an unfamiliar owl clacked and scratched against his window. The owl looked expensive and quite pompous – its arrogance could give Hedwig a run for her money. He opened the window and removed the rolled up scroll. Peeling it open, he immediately recognized the painstakingly perfect handwriting.

* * *

_**Harry,  
  
I did not know whom to write, and seeing as you are the least likely to hate me right now, I have decided to write to you. I know that I am probably the last possible person you want to hear from right now – especially after I refused to tell you whom else I slept with and it ended up being Malfoy, but I feel like I should explain myself.  
I only slept with him out of pity. He came to me crying. Crying, Harry, and I just could not turn him down. But after it was over, I realized I'd made a horrible mistake. I would have gotten my memory modified, but I never got around to it. Thank God, because now I have a baby on the way and I am so lost and Draco has taken me back to his home. I thought Lucius was going to rape me right there in front of Draco, but he performed this very frightening type of legilimency on me and... Harry, the baby is Draco's. I do not know what to do. I think the Malfoy family has some huge plans for my baby and I just wanted to handle it alone or – with Ron.  
I do not care what you have to say, but please, write me back. I cannot tell you where I am staying, but please do not contact my parents.  
  
My love for always,  
Hermione**_

* * *

Harry stared at the owl, and took out parchment and a quill.

* * *

_**Hermione,  
  
Want some advice? Try not to be a lying whore. And next time I ask you to blast away something important from my memory, don't. I hope you and Malfoy have fun raising the little bastard.  
  
Sincerely.  
Harry James Potter**

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**Review!**


	26. Trust & The Boy Who Got Drunk

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Trust & The Boy-Who-Got-Drunk**  
  
Hermione in her entire life would have never thought she'd seen it. She sat at the long steel dinner table, dressed in a long flowing silver dress that had been laid down on her bed earlier that day. Candles circled around the table, as Draco sat at one end of the table and his father at the other. She stared down at her plate, her head titled so far down that her spectacularly decorated hair was visible to everyone at the table.  
"You must excuse me, Miss Granger, my wife is away on business," he said. _Fucking liar_, thought both he and Hermione, but Draco knew that Lucius was pretending. Lucius knew that Draco had only slept with Hermione because of his mother's death. Surely he knew that he had told her. Did Lucius not think Draco would explain his actions?  
She didn't dare look up at him, let alone speak to him. Try as she might, Lucius Malfoy had always scared her. Probably because she knew he'd rather have her dead than alive, sitting at his dinner table, eating his food and carrying his grandchild.  
"Miss Granger, surely you must be hungrier than that. You're eating for two now. You and a Malfoy. And a Malfoy deserves only the best, even in the beginning," Lucius spoke coyly, smiling. Draco, who had listened to his devious plan earlier, grew impatient. He looked up from his food.  
"Call me crazy, father, but wasn't it you who said at the beginning of the year that you'd rather have me die than have a mudblood for an heir?"  
"Well, of course, Draco. But considering the circumstances-"  
"Oh?" Draco questioned. "And what circumstance would that be?"  
"Draco, I don't think this is proper dinner conversation. Especially in front of your guest."  
"She's not my guest, father. She's a fucking hostage." Hermione sighed and looked up from her plate.  
"I have been thinking of going home soon."  
"Oh, no no no, dear, that won't do at all," Lucius stated.  
"Excuse me?"  
"Maybe you should just tell her, father."  
"Draco!" Lucius grunted, his teeth pressed together.  
"Look, maybe she'll be into it. The mudblood's always gotten wet for power."  
"I am right here, Draco!"  
"Alright. Hermione," Lucius hissed, "how would you like to be the mother of the most powerful wizard the world has ever known?"  
"I do not quite understand." She said nervously, her eyes, which had recently been returned to their true color, floating to Draco, who was giving her some sort of look.  
"If you had the baby, and stayed with us, Draco and I could give the child everything it ever wanted. The best tutors and brooms and robes."  
"Well, I guess I could... use the help," she said, as Draco nodded slowly.  
"Then you have no problem raising the child here?"  
"What?"  
"And letting the Dark Lord possess our baby?" Draco quipped.  
"WHAT?!" Hermione said, standing up quickly and looking at Draco.  
"The child is a Death Eater already, sweetheart."  
"Fuck you, both! I am leaving," she spat, and practically ran out of the room. Lucius was seething, and stared down Draco.

* * *

It had taken Draco a while to navigate the changing doorways to find the room Hermione had run away to. She'd made her way back to the 'Glass Room' of course, and was hurriedly throwing things into her newly re-acquired suitcase.  
"We need to talk."  
"Fuck you. I should have known. Stupid of me to trust a bloody pureblood. I'm going home. I would much rather be disowned than used for your disgusting Death Eater means of abusing your children. You are so much like your father-"  
"That's crossing the line."  
"Oh. So now there are lines?"  
"I wanted you to know."  
"What?"  
"Look, I wanted you to know what he was planning to do with my son. I couldn't bear to sit there, Hermione, and let him talk to you all caringly like that. He was lying to you."  
"How do I know you are not lying to me right now? Playing the role of the caring... guy just so I will agree to pretend to go along with this plan and you screw me over at the last minute?"  
"You don't," he said, and cracked a half smile, then stared down at his shoes. "You've just got to trust me."  
"Trust you? Oh please, what have you ever done that warrants my trust?"  
"I could have let Blaise rape you. Ravage you. I could have left you in that fucking club, but I didn't. And as much as I hate to admit it, Granger, you are carrying my child, okay? And there's really no way for me to let you walk out that door without taking care of business. I could bloody well hate you. Hell, who knows? I may, but you can trust that I would never let anything bad befall my child."  
"You swear?"  
"I swear." He said, brushing aside a few strands of his blonde hair as an owl flew down the corridor and into the 'Glass Room.' "Lavinia?" Draco asked the owl as she perched on his arm. "Been using my owls have you, Granger?"  
"Relax, Draco, I just wrote Harry," she retorted, sliding the scroll out from beneath Lavinia's foot. She stood there, reading for a second before her eyes started to redden and well up. _Oh damn,_ thought Draco,_ she's going to cry..._  
And she sat down on the bed, cradling her head in her hands and weeping.  
"What did he say?"  
"I always ruin everything," she sobbed.  
"Well-" he began, and she snapped her head up to look at him, "no you don't. He's a scarheaded poofy bastard," he replied, and saw Hermione move a bit, perhaps from a small laugh. "What did he say?"  
"He called me a lying whore and... he found out about Ginny."  
"What about the Weaselbee?"  
"Psh, like I'm going to tell you, Draco. Just get out and let me pack in peace."  
"No. I'm curious. You know how much I like to hear about Potter being in pain."  
"No."  
"Tell me, please."  
"Why should I?"  
"Because," he said, and cocked his head to one side, widening his eyes a bit and sticking out his bottom lip.  
"Ugh, okay." Hermione said, sighing in defeat. "The weekend I... slept with Ron, Harry slept with Ginny."  
"Gross."  
"Draco..."  
"Sorry."  
"But she was mad at him because she was really drunk so she would not talk to him. And Ginny got her memory blasted, so Harry wanted it done, too, and now he found out that I did it and he is mad at me!"  
"Well that doesn't make any sense."  
"Thank you!" Hermione said, plopping back down on the bed in tears. "It just gets so old not having anyone who trusts me. It's been that way for the past bloody week and now it's even worse. We used to be the Golden Fucking Trio, now we're just three over-emotional oversexed teenagers who hate each other."  
"Typical," spat Draco, sitting next to her and pushing her luggage off the bed. "You look like shit when you cry."  
"You are a big bloody help."  
"Ah, I try," he said, and smirked, looking at her from his spot next to her on the sheer water bed. He leaned towards her, his lips tracing the lining of her neck. Hermione held her breath for a second as she felt the heat escaping from Draco's mouth on her skin, but she fought against every hormonal feeling in her body. Every single cell screamed _**"DO IT! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST BANG HIS BRAINS OUT!"  
**_ "Stop it, Draco," she said, brushing away his head with the back of her hand.  
"What?"  
"Call me crazy, but I'm really not in the mood."  
"Relax, you can just lay there. I'll do all the work."  
"No," she said, standing up. He followed her lead, and managed to get to the doorframe before her, smirking as he placed his hand to stop her escape. "Let me go, Malfoy."  
"Just get me say something," he cooed, leaning closer to her. "Look around you Hermione. What have you got to lose? What have you to go back to?" Draco raised his eyebrow to her as she looked down, a few tears returning. His hand then left from its place on the doorframe and slid onto her waist. Draco kissed her, and Hermione sucked in a deep breath as his cologne and the scent of his shampoo overpowered the air once again. In her heart, she wished she had will power, but unfortunately right now, neither of their hearts nor brains were doing their thinking. The two walked clumsily over to the white water bed, and Draco finished kissing her standing back to look at her. He had lied. She wasn't ugly when she cried – not in the least. As a matter of fact, standing there in the silver chiffon dress, her hair twirled up and around in tiny silver clips, the tiny brown tendrils falling over her red-rimmed eyes, she was breath taking. He slid his hands down her neck, and past her breasts where a tiny silver broach held the dress together. Simply unclipping it, the dress fell to the ground, and Hermione stood, entirely naked save for her panties, gripping the white shag carpeting between her toes.

* * *

Harry was sleeping upstairs when he awoke to the smell of dinner. He knew that they wouldn't call him – they never did. He'd always known it was his responsibility to be there when food was being served. He slid on his shoes, and climbed sluggishly down the stairs, once again taking in the sight of Dudley, whose gargantuan form should have been evenly distributed over a few chairs, crushing a tiny wooden chair whose legs had bowed out over time. Uncle Vernon mercilessly shoved broccoli into his mouth as Aunt Petunia pursed her lips, cutting a piece of meat mercilessly.  
Harry sat down, looking at his smallest-portions-of-everything meal and began to eat. Dudley's face never moved as he watched the television. As Dudley reached down to spear another helping of cheesecake for dessert, something funny that Harry did not give a good damn about took place on the telly, and Dudley began to laugh heavily, and Harry knew what was going to happen before it did.  
The chair squeaked, and bowed more, and then snapped loudly, sending Dudley's gigantesque form crashing to the floor in an explosion of wood splinters and fat and cheesecake. Aunt Petunia stood up, blubbering and screaming and Harry couldn't help himself. Despite the horrible shite that had taken place in the last twenty-four hours, this was too much and laughter escaped his mouth. He laughed heartily, loudly, and quickly as Aunt Petunia's mouth dropped in sheer astonishment.  
"Why are you laughing, boy? You think that's funny?" Uncle Vernon growled, his face turning purple with anger. Harry nodded, standing up and wiping away a few tears.  
"Yes, yes I do, Uncle Vernon. That fat lump broke a chair. It's bloody hilarious," he said, chuckling as Vernon's face became more contorted and pork-like with anger.  
"That's it! I have had it with your rudeness, boy!"  
"My rudeness? I'm simply laughing at a very fat kid falling over. If you fell over, I'd be watching a very fat _man_ do it and I'd be laughing even harder!" Harry replied.  
"You've got a lot of nerve, boy. How would you for me to send you to military school, huh?"  
"How would you like to suck my balls?"  
"What?!" Aunt Petunia yelled, looking up from where Dudley struggled like an upturned turtle to get up.  
"Oh, you know what? I'm sorry. What I actually said was HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO SUCK MY BALLS, Aunt Petunia?!" Harry spat, angrily blowing out of the room. He tried to recall Dumbledore's orders. To stay at Number 4 Privet Drive, but right now he needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. He couldn't spout off and talk about his "naughty bits" like that without impending punishment. Throwing a few things into a backpack that had been handed down to him by the Dursleys, Harry thundered downstairs, but before he could burst through the front door, he felt Aunt Petunia's hand grip his arm. "Fuck all y'all and this Popsicle stand." He yelled, tossing her hand away, knowing they couldn't ever fully kick him out, but he needed to leave for just a few days. He had always had Ron and Hermione to go to, but now he had nothing. He felt almost regretful for writing such a hateful reply to Hermione, but she had blasted away the loss of his virginity – how could he forgive someone for that?

* * *

Hermione laid in bed, covered from head to toe in the post-coitus mixed sweat from her and Draco, amazed at the fact that she was still in the house, let alone currently doing Merlin-only-knows with the Malfoy heir. She drew in a deep breath as his lips landed on her belly-button, his tongue circling mercilessly.  
"You know," he said, breathlessly, knowing he was about to get his second wind. "You should get pierced."  
"Get what pierced?"  
"Your belly-button."  
"I don't want to ruin my stomach. Beside, I heard," she winced a little as Draco moved upwards and commenced to sucking ferociously on her neck. He moved his left hand from its recent spot on her thigh and slid it around her leg, his thumb beginning to massage her, as she tried desperately to finish her sentence, "that if you get your bellybutton, _shit,_ pierced that when you have a baby the hole stretches and won't close back up," she said, kissing him as he continued to press his fingers into her. "And in a few months, I'm gonna be fat," she said, panting hard as her hand gripped tightly onto Draco's arm.  
"I don't care," he said, removing his hand and looking at her as she suddenly looked quite let down. He kissed her, and then moved slowly downward to her chest, sucking gently on her skin.  
"Why are you doing this?"  
"Doing what?"  
"Actually working at foreplay?"  
"I don't know, killing time, I guess," he said, smiling up at her.  
"You confuse me, Malfoy. You keep me guessing," she moaned, sliding her nails down his shoulder blades. "I do not know what I'm going to do now. I cannot go home and I cannot go to the burrow."  
"Stay here," he said, kissing her stomach now.  
"What?"  
"My father wants the baby to be raised here, so it's a perfect cover. You can," he paused for a second as she felt his head lower and his tongue slid into her, "stay here with us." Her breath caught in her throat. She'd never had anyone do this to her, and her toes soon curled at the feeling. She slid her hand down her glistening frame, taking Draco's hand as his mouth pressed down upon her, and she shut her eyes in ecstasy.

* * *

Harry took another shot at the Leaky Cauldron, laughing heartily with the four other teenage wizards around him. Going out and getting royally plastered was probably not the best idea, but what else was a sixteen year old wizard with money to burn and somewhat of a conscience supposed to do?  
"So then they cut my arm, and I was bleeding... fucking everywhere. And he tried to kill me, but I let that summabitch have it. And so I went back to Hogwarts. But I still won. I fucking _woooooon _the Triwizard," he said, drunkenly catching a high-five from the mohawked wizard who had called himself Skeebop.  
"Fuckin' A, Harry!" Another, an asian wizard with a nosering, said.

* * *

Hermione screamed, backing away from Draco as she still held onto him, breathing heavily.  
"That was the best one yet, it really was," she panted, "we need to stop while we're ahead." She said, smirking, and he nodded, kissing her.  
"I'm gonna go take a shower," he said, leaving the room. Aside from checking out his butt when he left, Hermione simply rolled over onto her stomach and began to take the clips out of her hair. When she heard the door shut, she smiled and put her head into the pillow. _What's wrong with me?!_ She screamed to herself. _I have shit for willpower.  
_ Around ten minutes later, Draco entered the room, dressed rather nicely.  
"Why the get-up, Ferret?"  
"Let's go somewhere."  
"Excuse me? I was about to go to sleep. I am quite tired."  
"Come on, mudblood, let's go out."  
"You wanna be seen in public with me?"  
"Right now? Yeah, kinda. Come on, shower, slap that mop on your head into a ponytail, and we'll go have, like, a midnight dessert or something," he said, and she smiled.

* * *

Harry, now quite inebriated, wandered down the streets of Diagon Alley with his four new bestest buddies in the _WHOOOOOOOOLE world_. He stumbled, and fell directly onto the wet sidewalk as the long-haired goateed wizard named Twister laughed, pulling him back up. These four wizards had apparently been fans of Harry's and bought him shot after shot. Harry, whose glasses were now crooked, looked down the road of Diagon Alley and squinted. He thought he saw... _Hermione?_ He began to walk drunkenly down the street.

* * *

"HERMIONE!" She heard as she and Draco stopped outside of a restaurant in Diagon Alley. She shrugged, and looked down the street, amazed to see Harry suddenly stumble again, and hit the ground as a group of teens around him laughed.  
"Holy shit," Draco laughed, "Look, Granger, it's the Boy-Who-Got- Drunk."  
"Shut up, Draco," she said, glaring down the street as Harry mosied towards her, laughing as his nose bled.  
"I just wanted to say," he slurred, his breath reeking of liquor, "that 1 – I'm sorry for calling you a whore. I mean, you _kind of _are a whore, but not enough to where I'd have to say it because I'm a great big asshole fuckhead. 2 – You should be with Ron, and not this Ferret fuck right her. Ron. Even if the baby isn't his because he leee-oooves you. You've got him whipped. Wa-pish!" He said, and attempted to make a whipping gesture only to wobble before being caught by the rather chubby wizard next to him. "Oh! And these are my new friends, Twister, Skeebop, Dimsum, and Larry! You know what his last name is?! Cotter! Larry Cotter! His name..." he seemed dizzy for a second, "rhymes with_ my name_!"  
"Harry," Hermione said, putting her fingers to her nose between her eyes, breathing out slowly. "Are you okay?"  
"Nope," he slurred lazily, "I'm drunk."  
"Ah, he'll be fine, girly," The one called Skeebop said, laughing. "We're gonna get him a room and let him sleep it off. Fuckin' Boy-Who-Lived deserves it," he said as Harry leaned up against the bricks of the restaurant, moaning.  
"Thanks... 'Skeebop', but I really don't think he needs a few hoodlums taking care of him," Hermione retorted, staring down the punk.  
"Wait. What?" Draco said, raising his eyebrows.  
"He needs someone to watch him, Malfoy."  
"I hope you're not talking about you."  
"I'm his friend."  
"He called you a whore!"  
"You've called me a mudblood bitch."  
"Yeah, but we have reservations and-" his voice was halted suddenly by the sound of Harry heaving onto the side of the building.  
"Look, I wouldn't expect you to understand how important Harry's friendship is to me, so just give me twenty minutes. Go in there, get our table, and I'll be right back. I promise."  
"Ugh, fine," Draco spat, turning into the restaurant. "Stupid Gryffindor."

* * *

Hermione draped Harry's arm over her as she lifted him up. "Ow, watch my back," Harry slurred.  
"Why?"  
"'Cause it's still sore."  
"From what?" Hermione asked, making her way to the Leaky Cauldron to get Harry a room.  
"My tattoo."

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**Kudos to South Park and Movies-in-Fifteen-Minutes for helping me out with the Harry Leaves the Dursleys scene. Please review!**


	27. Dinner Theatre

**Big shout-out to my pervy sophomore friends Amber and Meredith who got a LEEL overexcited but what writer doesn't love that?!  
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**Chapter Twenty-Five: Dinner Theatre  
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Draco sat at the table, tapping his foot underneath the flawless white tablecloth, bored. He'd only been sitting there for a few minutes, but it had felt like eternity. And he couldn't get his mind to stop returning to earlier this evening. Why had he done it? Try as he may, he really had no explanation for having pleasured Hermione in _that _way. He'd always though of it as having been disgusting, a perverse action for guys who didn't have enough gumption to just go ahead and fuck whoever it was they were trying to get off, but there, in that Glass Room, he had slid his tongue into her so carefully and continued until she had seemed on the complete edge of climax. He then had screwed her mercilessly, yes - leaving her screaming at the end of it, no doubt irritating every servant within earshot and his father. Another problem that plagued him was where he truly stood on his opinion of his father's plans. He didn't quite know how he felt about cleansing the world of impure wizards anymore, having been one for two weeks, but Lucius was his father. He'd always been taught that the Dark Lord was right, since he was born.  
He had been born on July 14th, and the Dark Lord had been present, and Draco had heard many times about his baptism – in the boiled blood of an impure wizard. In purified blood. In the arms of Lord Voldemort, he had been lowered into the shimmering bath, which was styled to be the open mouth of a snake, its fangs encircling the tiny, six-pound infant, whose merciless blue eyes told a story of horror only hours old. Seventeen days later, Harry Potter was born. And a year later, his Dark Lord and godfather was killed.  
He'd never mentioned that to anyone, that Lucius had made Lord Voldemort his godfather. Should anything have happened to Lucius then, he would have become something equivalent to the Dark Prince of the wizarding world. Even thinking of it now made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Did the same situation still exist? If Lucius died, would Draco have to live with him? He doubted it, seeing as most of the world was terrified of him and the Ministry would never sign over a teenager to live with one of the most dangerous wizards ever to walk the Earth. Would they?

* * *

Hermione had ignored the looks she'd gotten from the innkeeper when asking for a room as she propped a very drunk Harry back up, but soon she had the key and they made their way up to the room, where Harry fell instantly on the bed, breathing heavy.  
"It's hot," he said, and Hermione nodded, opening the window and lighting a few candles in the room. Taking her wand, she swished it into the air, whispering, "Ventus." And a soft wind suddenly began circling the room. She then went into the small lavatory that accompanied the four- poster bed and sink room she'd rented, and wetted a small rag. She heard Harry murmuring as he lie on the bed, and a bit of tossing around. She looked in the mirror, sighed, and walked back in the room.  
She entered, and stopped for a second as she saw that Harry had obviously forgotten that she was there, and was shirtless, currently attempting to unbuckle his belt and get his trousers quickly off. He stumbled for a second, his front still facing her, and fell against the window sill, promptly giving his head a good knock in the process.  
"Ow..." he slurred, and Hermione walked over, lifting him up and putting him back on the bed. "Am I bleeding?"  
"No, Harry, you're not bleeding."  
"Oh." He said, muffled as he began to blush. "I'm sorry that I tried to be naked in front of you."  
"Ah, you're dehydrated. Just make sure you drink lots of water."  
"I'll do that. You're smart. You're so smart, Hermy," he said, and she pressed the rage onto his face.  
"Harry, why'd you do this?" She asked, dabbing his forehead gently.  
"I left the Dursleys. Again. I left, and then I really didn't have anywhere to go. I always had you – or Ron, but not anymore."  
"You don't have the burrow to go to?"  
"No. Ginny... Ginny dumped me. She found out what you did and she dumped me."  
"To be honest, Harry, the entire ordeal wasn't my fault."  
"I know," he replied, and winced a bit as he reached his hand up to massage his shoulder blade.  
"Is that your tattoo?" She asked, and he nodded. "Can I see?" He rolled over, and laid his head to the side as Hermione took in what was an obviously a very recent tattoo. The ink spread from his left to right shoulder blade, and was probably two inches in height. In sprawling, Old English letters, it read:  
  
**_ in Sirius memoriam_**  
  
"Wow," she sighed, running her hands over the tender letters as Harry winced. "That's beautiful. When did you get it?"  
"I dun remember. Prolly an hour ago. Hurts like a bastard but they gave me this cool instant healing cream I'm supposed to use in the morning."  
"Did you have it bewitched to do anything special?"  
"No. I didn't have enough money."  
"You got it when you were drunk, didn't you?"  
"Yes." He said, and she sighed as she began to turn down the bed. "Why were you here with Malfoy, Hermione?"  
"Because he's offered to let me stay with him until the baby's born. I doubt I'll be able to return to Hogwarts when I'm almost five months pregnant, so he's - you know - offered to give me a place to stay and everything I need for the baby. I could really use the help right now."  
"But Ron loves you. He still loves you, Hermione I know it. I know it in the heart of my bottom. He would give you everything if he could and all you hafta do is ask."  
"I know, Harry, and I love Ron. But right now I need to think about my baby. And a baby is going to need nappies and clothes and bottles and a pram and, while Ron has good intentions, he just does not have enough coin to provide all of that and as much as it pains me to admit it, he cannot provide for my baby like the Malfoy family could. Plus, I want my child to know her father."  
"Or his father."  
"Or his father, yes."  
"But just because that's not Ron's DNA or whatever doesn't mean he wouldn't love the baby. You really want your child to be raised by Draco and Narcissa - and Lucius whenever he gets out of Azkaban? To grow to hate mudbloods and muggle-borns even though he is one?"  
"Right now, I need to focus on the money. On getting the best care for my baby before its born, and afterwards, well, I will cross that bridge when I come to it. Draco is already promised-"  
"If you listen to a single promise that snake makes, then you're not the Hermione Granger I love." He replied, his voice's volume dwindling down, as he now seemed quite tired. He crawled into the area of the bed that Hermione had unmade, and covered himself before sliding off his trousers and throwing them across the room. She pursed her lips and breathed out slowly, running her hands over his head before kissing his forehead.  
"I don't know who I am anymore. Goodnight, Harry."

* * *

Draco looked up as Hermione entered the restaurant, and waved his hand. She seemed a bit more sullen now then before she'd left. He silently cursed Potter for ruining her spectacular mood, and readied himself for a painful dining experience.

"So, how'd he do?"

"He'll be fine. Draco, um, there are some things we need to discuss," she said.

"Like what?" He replied, slouching a bit. _DAMMIT!_ He'd hated all of his "talks" with Pansy, and he was not so sure that this one would be any different.

"Like what will happen when you go off to school and when the baby is born and all that bollocks."

"Can't we just eat our meal and discuss it later?"

"I'd really much rather discuss it now."

"Um, alright," he said as a waiter made their way over to him.

"Hello, Mister Malfoy," the young man said, and Draco smiled. Being the son of one of the most powerful men in your world did have its perks. "What can I get you this evening?"

"For starters, I'll just have a nice bottle of Veelan wine – 1376. And the lady will have-" Draco stopped as he suddenly felt Hermione's food collide with his shin. "Ow, what?!"

"I can order for myself, thank you."

"Well, fine, damn. Go ahead and order for yourself."

"Thank you," she said, and smiled. "I'll have a water," she said, and the waiter promptly walked off as Hermione smirked and looked at her menu.

"A water? You embarrassed me like that just so you could order yourself a bloody water?"

"It is the principle of the thing, Malfoy."

"Well I'm sorry, okay? It's how I was raised."

"You didn't pull out _my chair_ for me."

"You were late."

"You are an ass."

"That may be so, but I am an ass who's currently buying you a nice post-sex snack, so could you please pretend not to hate me for the duration of the meal?"

"Of course, as long as you treat me like an equal and not like one of your little girlfriends."

"Oh, please, Granger, the way you're porking up right now, there's no way you could ever be my_ little_ girlfriend," he snapped, and her mouth dropped. "I win."

"Fine," she said, and plastered on a fake smile as the waiter approached, pouring the bubbling white liquid into his glass. The wine began to emit an odd, melodic, trance-like sound until the water tapped the glass with his wand. The wine suddenly burst into flames with a deafening scream, until Draco blew out the fire and the glass was silenced. Hermione smirked as her water was set down, and the waiter looked intently at Draco. "Oh, erm, yes of course. I will have the roasted Diricrawl and, ahem, Hermione?"

"Yes, of course, I will have the same, along with a side of mashed potatoes and of course, a bit of turnip greens in light oil, please, and the baked augurey. Thank you," she said and shot a look at Draco as the waiter took her menu and promptly sauntered off to the kitchen.

"Well, we're certainly not watching our weight or finances, are we?"

"It's perfectly healthy to gain up to fifty pounds when someone's expecting, and I believe it was you who said you were paying so fork it over, Ferret boy."

"Well fine then," he said, and took a sip of his wine, looking at her over the glass. "Are you really going to eat all of that?" He asked under his breath.

"I think so. I'm kind of having an aversion to oatmeal and eggs right now."

"Why?"

"It's a hormonal thing."

"Oh. So what did Potter say?"

"Nothing of importance. He was drunk so he pretty much just went to bed."

"Lightweight."

* * *

Hermione and Draco got back to Malfoy Manor probably around two in the morning, both of them quite full and a bit sleepy. They entered the mansion, and Draco was quite relieved to find that his father had hopefully turned in for the night. He turned to Hermione.  
"So... you gonna sleep in the Glass Room or what?"  
"Yes, Draco. Thank you very much for dinner. Goodnight," she said, and with that, sauntered off to her room before he could get another word in. He walked down the up, up a flight of stairs, and entered his room, not in the least surprised to find that his father was waiting for him on the couch.  
"Evening."  
"It's more like the morning, don't you think, Draco?"  
"Don't tell me you're about to turn into one of those bloody attentive parents who cares when their child stays out late."  
"Oh heavens no – wouldn't dream of it. We need to discuss your ball."  
"What ball? Oh, shite. Do I really have to go through that whole mess?"  
"Draco, the age at which a wizard becomes of age is a prestigious event."  
"Not so much, Father. A lot of wizards turn seventeen."  
"But you are a Malfoy and a Death Eater, there will be a lot of people attending the event."  
"Father, just call the planner and let her know that we need to have a Debut Ball. So she can get some high-priced band and we can cover the main hall in cobwebs and wine and dress in our stupid little tuxedos and evening gowns and walk around having stupid little conversations about unimportant bollocks and laugh at poor people. Just do whatever you did."  
"And have you thought about the young lady who will accompany you? I know you're not planning to have Granger by your side."  
"Of course not, Father. I would never embarrass us like that."  
"Then who?"  
"Pansy, I guess."  
"Okay, well tomorrow, I'll put in a call to Ernestine and have her apparate here to discuss the Ball. You'll be free, I presume."  
"Of course. Now do you mind leaving my room? I'd like to go to sleep."  
"Certainly," Lucius hissed, and popped out of the room with a quick snap.

* * *

Hermione laid in her bed, staring at the parchment before her.

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad,  
I know you've always looked upon me as your infallible daughter, but -_

* * *

No, that wouldn't do at all. Hermione shrugged and tapped the parchment with her wand, watching the words erase themselves.

* * *

_Mum,  
  
Don't tell Dad, but soon you and him will be grandparents._

* * *

Ick.

* * *

_Mum and Dad,  
  
I've been offered to spend the summer studying Ancient Runes in Scotland. Professor Wroglin submitted my name to a committee and I was accepted! The school is paying for the whole thing, but I had to start right away. I hope you are not too upset at having not been told beforehand, but I did not want to get my hopes up too high. I should be finished by August 31, which gives me just enough time to catch a train back to Platform 9¾ to get back to Hogwarts. I know that you are proud of me, and cannot wait to tell you all about it when I get home for Christmas!  
  
Love,  
Hermione_

* * *

She sighed, and put the quill away. That would have to do. Her stomach wretched at the idea of lying to her parents, but there was no other way. Perhaps she would be able to tell them near Christmas, as she would have to. As of July 13, she would be a full three months pregnant – which made her due date in mid January.  
Hermione tied the scroll onto Lavinia's claw, and watched the owl fly off into the night, taking an abhorrent lie to her family.

* * *

Hermione woke up late that morning – nearly noon, and was immediately mad at herself. She hated sleeping this late, and now she felt suddenly nervous, having woken up in the Malfoy house for the second morning in a row. But her anxiety subsided as she soon saw Hedwig perched at the end of her bed. Leaning up, she took the scroll of parchment from her and tossed her a treat. She unrolled the letter.

* * *

_Hermione,  
  
I awoke earlier today with an aching head and back. But the tattoo that I saw nearly shocked me into a coma. **In Sirius Memoriam** – in memory of Sirius. I remembered you taking care of me last night, though, and what you'd said. I'm amazed I'm about to say this.  
I am not sure that I will ever understand what makes people sacrifice so much. Sirius died to save me, and so did my parents. They all gave their lives for me, and I doubt that they did it just so I would betray my friends when they need me most and get drunk in Diagon Alley. But knowing that they **did** die for me makes me think about **your** baby, and how much you're giving up just so that kid can have everything you think it deserves. It must be quite brutal for you, having to be stuck with Draco and Narcissa every day. But I'll be here for you – stuck at the Dursleys. They grounded me, but just know that you can talk to me now without my anti- Malfoy prejudice, because I know that you're doing this for what will hopefully be my godchild coughcoughnudgenudge.  
Please write back, and let me know how things are going. I hope Dumbledore lets you go back to Hogwarts. I'm pretty sure you'll make quite a splash at the Feast.  
  
Yours truly,  
Harry James Potter_


	28. Proposals & Birthday Presents

**Okay, the following chapter is two in one, so I can fix the current titling problem I'm having. Example, last chapter was Chapter 25, but was listed at 27 in the scroll-box, etc. Damn 3Ternity....  
  
That's also why it took a lot longer to be posted.**

****

* * *

****

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Proposals  
**  
After reading Harry's letter, she smiled as Hedwig flew off. She turned to her suitcase, and then got dressed for the day, pulling her hair up in a messy ponytail before exiting the Glass Room and eventually finding her way to the Dining Hall.  
She didn't quite enjoy walking around Malfoy Manor alone. She still felt like an intruder, and as much as she loathed admitting it, felt much more comfortable with Draco near her – more like a guest or someone who was supposed to be there. She could hear three voices somewhere. Two men and a woman. Draco and Lucius' voices she recognized immediately, but the third was quite a mystery. She took a few more steps down the hall, breathing in the scent of a wealth wizard home. She'd never really been in one.  
The mansion itself smelled cold, a bit like something that had just been cleaned, but it also had a smell of cologne built into its walls. A place run by men. Ron's house had smelled like spices and cats and rats and had almost too much personality slapped about the tiny burrow. But Draco's house didn't have enough personality to fill a vial in Snape's class. Everything in it, it seemed, existed to intimidate or impress or serve some sinister purpose. She then found herself in front of a door that she immediately recognized – Draco's room. Looking both ways before pushing it open, she employed her notorious curiosity and entered the chamber.

* * *

"So, the guest list will consist of...?" Ernestine Devlin stared down Lucius as Draco sat next to his father in the study, bored.  
"The crème de la crème of wizard society, Madame Devlin. Bernadette Parkinson and whomever it is she's married to now. Her daughter will be accompanying my son to the ball."  
"What a lucky girl," she cooed, her bone-straight long black hair falling down as she flipped it. As dark as her well-tanned skin was, Ernestine managed to have almost white-blue eyes. The robe she wore was incredibly low-cut and Draco silently wished that either his father would ask him to leave the room and go ahead and make a pass at her. He hated the way his father was leering at her, making it so obvious that Narcissa was completely out of the picture.  
"And of course the Goyles, Notts, Crabbes, and the Zabinis of course."  
"No Zabinis."  
"Draco, what possible reason could you have for not inviting the Zabinis?"  
"I just don't want Blaise at the Ball."  
"I will not let you ruin your party with your silly Hogwarts grudges. Put the Zabinis down, Madame Devlin." Lucius spat, and Draco sighed. His father had, of course, informed Ernestine that she was to tell no one he was out of Azkaban and she'd get a great big fat raise on her paycheck. Draco didn't understand how one wizard could possibly spend over two thousand galleons on one simple party. Draco knew he would be presented with a new wand – that was the tradition. His life was full of traditions.

* * *

Hermione laid on the bed, immersed in the pillows as she fought the urge to snoop around. She'd always been interested in old money wizarding families, and now she was in the room of the Malfoy family's heir. Surely there were some good blackmail-worthy secrets laying about. Slightly bored at her own misplaced morality, she looked underneath his mattress, finding only a few copies of _PLAYWIZARD_ – nothing too interesting there. Every teenage wizard had a copy or two. She then glanced towards his floating nightstand at the smiling picture of Narcissa, who in her arms held an infant – Draco, of course. She reached for the image and turned it over in its frame. There was no writing on the back. How disappointing.  
As she was turning the picture over, she noticed on the cover an engraving at the top that seemed to have been rubbed almost entirely off. She reached up to brush it, and jumped when she heard a formal, deep, and quite regal voice emerging from the photographed Narcissa's lips.  
_ "My Dragon, no matter how old you are right now, or how old I am. If I am here or gone. If we have nothing, or the world's entire possessions seem to be at your feet, know always that you are my son, and I will love you until the moment the world ends. I pray that the woman who finds your heart will hold your happiness as tightly as I always will. With every ounce of love in my body, your mother."  
_ Hermione breathed out slowly, setting the picture back up.  
"What are you doing?" She heard someone snap, and she looked up, quite surprised to see Draco standing in his doorway.  
"Um... I got bored."  
"So you came into my room without my permission?"  
"It is not like this room is necessarily exclusive area for witches."  
"I just wish you'd let me know before you decided to come in here and mess with my shit," he said, removing the picture from its place on his nightstand and shoving it into a drawer. He then looked down at the floor, as Hermione tried desperately to make eye contact with him.  
"So... who's that lady?" Hermione asked, smoothing out a few stray hairs that had missed her ponytail.  
"What?"  
"I heard a woman's voice."  
"Oh, that's, erm, Ernestine Devlin. She's my family's official party planner."  
"What would you be having a party for?"  
"My seventeenth birthday. Since I'm 'coming of age' my father has decided to stick with tradition and throw me a debut ball."  
"When is your birthday?"  
"July fourteenth."  
"Oh. Wait – I thought you said you were fifteen at the end of your fourth year."  
"I lied. Wanted to make myself seem older." He said, shaking his head as she laughed lightly. "Did you see anything in here you liked?"  
"I found your porn stash."  
"Did you now?"  
"Yeah, not very extensive."  
"Ah, I know what I like," he replied, stepping closer to her on the bed. She sat up, her trousers mussing the sheets as she slid across the comforter. She smiled, and tilted her head, looking at him.  
"I had fun last night."  
"Me, too."  
"And when I say that, I mean aside from the sex. I liked going out to dinner with you... even though you were being an arrogant bastard."  
"I liked going out to dinner with you, too – even if you're a liberal money-grubbing bitch." She nodded, accepting his insult.  
"So what's the theme for this ball?"  
"Oh, my father and Madame Devlin decided on a Black & White Masque."  
"Seriously? What fun," she cried, and smiled as Draco sat down next to her on the bed. He looked away from her, and then rubbed his nose. "I am not going, am I?"  
"Well, considering that most of the guests would be Death Eaters and purebloods, we considered it to be in bad taste. You'd probably end up being beaten or sacrificed, and as much as I dislike you, that wouldn't make for a very good birthday."  
"Yeah, I figured as much. So when's the party? Maybe I can get a hotel room somewhere in town and just hide out for the weekend."  
"The eighteenth of July. We're owling the invitations tonight. Two-hundred of the wizarding worlds richest, most egotistical hoi-polloi of society."  
"Sounds dull."  
"Oh, it will be, I don't doubt it. Can I... Can I ask you something?"  
"Like what?"  
"It's more of a proposal – an offer if you will. I really enjoyed yesterday."  
"What about it?"  
"I like buggering you," he said, and stuck out his tongue as she hit him. "No, but I was thinking last night that you like it, too – or you're just an incredible actress. So, I've been thinking about it and decided that maybe, since you'll be staying here anyway, that you and me could-"  
"You want to be each other's own personal fuck puppet?"  
"Well, I don't know. I mean, it's a lot _healthier _than sleeping around – for the both of us, and you don't have to worry anymore about getting pregnant. And my father can't get mad because he loses the baby if he kicks you out or pisses me off. I just think it'd be a good arrangement."  
"For you and me to consistently have sex whenever you want?"  
"Or when you want, I mean, my schedule is wide open."  
"So whenever we want, until January?"  
"I guess so."  
"I'll have to think about it., Mr. Malfoy."  
"Seriously? I would have thought you'd've been insulted."  
"Yes, well, aren't mood swings just fabulous? Oh... oh no."  
"What?"  
"I'm gonna throw up!"

* * *

Ron awoke late the next day, heading downstairs, where his father sat, reading the Daily Prophet.  
"What are you doing home, dad? I'd have thought you to be at work at this hour."  
"Oh, came home for lunch," he replied, sipping his mug. Setting the paper down, he got up and went into the kitchen.  
"Where's Mum and Ginny?" He asked, realizing how quiet the house was. It had, of course, become a lot less eventful since Fred and George had moved out, but the silence was quite disconcerting.  
"Your mother took her out shopping. She's been a bit down ever since... yes, well they're in Hogsmeade."  
"Oh."  
"And if I might say, as an observation, you could do to get out and about, too – other than your chores. I realize you're going through a bit of a rough spot right now, but that's no reason to ruin your summer."  
"She was my summer."  
"Had you talked to her since you two unofficially separated?"  
"I couldn't bring myself to. I wanted to talk to her at the club, but I saw her leaving with... him. And I don't even know if Harry's heard from her because I haven't spoken to him either."  
"And you don't find it odd that you haven't seen your two best friends nearly all summer?"  
"They're not my friends anymore, dad."  
"Well then what are they, Ronald? Because they're certainly not your enemies. I know right now that you're mad at her but you never even heard her side of it. From this family, you should have well learned that there's always more than one side to a story. Occasionally there's three or four. There's your side, the Malfoy boy's side..."  
"And her side," Ron said, picking up the Daily Prophet. On the front page, in a tiny space at the corner, was an announcement. The Wizarding social event of the year, it claimed – Draco Malfoy's Debut Ball. Ron immediately took out his wand, and set the article aflame.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Birthday Presents  
**  
It was a week until Draco's birthday when Hermione awoke early on Tuesday. While she normally would have awoken in London to the smell of her parents cooking breakfast together before they went to go see her grandmother, she smelled nothing in Malfoy Manor.  
It was odd to think she'd only been there for five days, and yet this was going to be her new home, until January – until she had her baby. She was sick often, but aside from the occasional muscle soreness and mood swings, not having had her period for nearly three months was a plus.  
The flashes of last night came back to her quickly. She'd been lying in bed asleep, when she'd heard voices. Not Draco's voice, but Lucius' voice along with that woman who'd been there – "Ernestine," she thought she recalled. And they definitely had not been talking. There would be brief moments of silence, and then a sudden outburst of screams or a moan or a thud. It made her quite uncomfortable. She'd never truly overheard anyone doing such things, and she tensed in almost sheer terror when she heard a door open, and footsteps making their way to her room.  
But it was neither Lucius nor Ernestine at her door. Draco stood, in a pair of pajama trousers in her doorway, his hair unkempt and looking quite disturbed and upset.  
"Are you alright?"  
"His bedroom is really close to mine," he'd said, and walked over to the bed, at first simply placing himself next to her, and they just laid there, listening in their own embarrassment to the sounds being made by his father. Until Draco spoke up. "This is the first time he's done that."  
"What? Slept with someone other than your mom?"  
"I wouldn't say that, but even when he was with my mother, they never made sounds like that."  
"Draco-"  
"I hate him so much."  
"Then leave."  
"It's not that simple," he'd said, and turned to her, kissing her in an almost sad fashion. This was going to be comfort sex. And that was also the first time Draco had ever come before her. Having had so much more experience, he'd been able to last a lot longer before, and now, before Hermione had even begun to tingle in anticipation, he'd gone rigid for a second below her, and then relax as he began to breath again, but he'd half- heartedly finished her off with what was probably the weakest climax she'd had with him. It was not like that time at four in the morning in her room, nor that time before dinner. She'd fallen asleep, and woken up once again without him.  
She got dressed, and made her way into the living room, and began to wonder about how to leave Magi Proper. She needed to do some shopping, and she needed to do it at a Muggle mall, but the Malfoys only had one car, for travel emergencies when they couldn't apparate nor use the Floo or disillusion and fly. Hermione doubted she was allowed to use it.  
She looked up quickly, quite startled as a maid entered the room. Hermione could never get used to the random placement of both house elves and human servants, and this one – called Pearl – seemed just as unprepared to see her.  
"Oh, Miss Hermione, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?"  
"Of course not, Pearl, but thank you. I do have a question, however."  
"Yes ma'am?"  
"Erm," Hermione wasn't at all kosher with being addressed so formally. She'd never quite attached herself to the idea of servitude, and it being so prevalent in Malfoy Manor disturbed her a bit, "I was going to do a bit of shopping in muggle London. How... how would I get there?"  
"Oh, um, you could take the car, or the Floo-"  
"But I can't use the Floo, I want to go to muggle London, Pearl."  
"I know, but you can go to Diagon Alley and then make your way through the back of the Leaky Couldron."  
"Oh... yes, well I guess you're right. I apologize."  
"Oh there's no need, Miss Granger," she said, and skipped off into another room. Being with Draco seemed to make Hermione stupid.

* * *

She walked from one store to another, finding nothing satisfactory. She had very little Muggle money, having had it left over from the Christmas break, and was simply having a hard time shopping for a few sets of clothes and the proper item.

"Hermione!" She heard, and jumped a bit as she spun around. She was a bit shocked seeing Harry out and about in muggle London.

"Harry! What are you doing here?"

"Why is that always the exchange we have?" He said, arranging his European man bag on his waist. "Uncle Vernon is making come out with Aunt Petunia to pick out new draperies as part of my punishment for yelling at them all and leaving a bit ago."

"That sounds like fun," she replied, looking across the street and noting a tall, skinny woman with lips pursed together like she was sucking on a lemon flitting about in the decorating shop.

"So what are you doing here?"

"Oh, just doing a bit of shopping. Malfoy's birthday is coming up and-" she quickly stopped the rest of the sentence from flying out of her mouth, but the astonished look on Harry's face was enough to say it all.

"So now you're buying him gifts?"

"Look, Harry, he is making a lot of sacrifices by letting me live there with him. A gift is the least I could do."

"Oh yeah, I bet it's horrible for Richie Rich, having to put up with your presence."

"It is not like that, okay?" She sighed, running her hand through her bushy hair, and Harry looked at her for a second.

"Are you fucking him?" He spat, and she looked at the ground, biting her bottom lip, unable to lie to his face. "You know, Hermione, there's a difference between staying with him because you have to and shagging him on a constant basis."

"It is not that simple, Harry," she said, and took his hand as they began to walk. "I am stuck there, okay? And aside from that, I am sick and moody all of the time and I am about to have to make some really rough decisions. And why should I not sleep with him if I am just bloody trapped?"

"Are you sleeping with him because you feel like you have to?" He asked, and Hermione itched the lining at her wrists. "Because you feel like you owe him?"

"I do not know."

"Hermione? Let's have lunch, okay? Petunia's so wrapped up in floral prints that she won't notice if I'm gone for a while. And we need to discuss some things."

* * *

It was a week and a half later, and five days before until Draco's ball. But only a quarter of an hour or so lay between tonight and his birthday. Only a few minutes now separated this night from when he would turn seventeen, and be of age – a true, practicing wizard.

The sun had set hours ago, and he'd finished his dinner, Hermione following him. Now he was laying breathless, wrapped in her legs, his arms tucked beneath her back as he struggled to kiss her, but their fatigue made that quite hard. Their lips were together, though, open as they breathed hard into each other, and she smoothed back his hair.

Hermione had heard nothing from Harry, but that didn't so much bother her, as she knew where he stood. But her heart began to beat quickly whenever she thought of Ron. She missed him. And while she wasn't necessarily having the worst of times here at Malfoy Manor, whenever she would retire to bed and shut her eyes, she dreamt about his arm circling around her stomach, his nose on the back of her neck.

She'd never slept with Draco without sex being involved. The only times she was ever unconscious around him or vice versa was usually after an intense session, and whenever she woke up, she would hurry quickly back to the Glass Room, which had become her unofficial quarters. But Ron had seen no problem at all in simply laying there with her, staring at each other until they nodded off.

And now, Hermione was pushing back Draco Malfoy's hair, her nose pressing against his cheek as his moist face began to slide down her face into the curve of her neck. She tried desperately to catch her breath, fighting off the guilt that threatened to attack her at the end of each torrid romp. Fighting off Harry's words – that Malfoy was a Death Eater, and true to only two people, himself and Voldemort.

But Hermione was noticing an extreme fluctuation in her sex drive. At times she wanted to stab Malfoy in the eye with a fork whenever he tried to touch her, and at other times she wanted so badly for him to impale her with _other parts_ of his body that she almost couldn't stand it.

He pulled himself out of her, his hand resting on her right breast, and he kissed the area between them.

"What…what time is it?" She asked, and he shook his head, still sliding down and slowly away, like a snail on the sheets. He soon managed to remove himself from his bed, and dug in his trousers for a pack of cigarettes. He wavered, barely standing from dizziness, and turned to offer Hermione one. "Draco…" she said, reminding him that due to certain circumstances, it was a bad idea to smoke. He nodded, and put it in his mouth. She reached over to his nightstand and grabbed her wand off of the table, gesturing to him. Taking the hint, he crawled slowly towards her on the bed, still nude and every inch of skin shining with sweat as she cupped her hand around the wand and cigarette, muttering the proper incantation as its end suddenly turned orange. He turned his head away from her and blew out a puff of smoke before kissing her roughly, and sliding back off the bed, making his bare way to the balcony outside of his room.

The moon seemed to be so far away right now, in the summer. His heart was racing at a million miles a minute, and the poisons in the tiny white stick were doing nothing to calm him. His house rested on a steep incline, and he was able to look over much of Magi Proper at this late hour, the few lit streetlamps highlighting the – for the most part – sleeping town. He could remember the first time he'd ever ridden a broom, when he was about four or five, and his father had gotten him one – with no training weights. But he'd learned well, and flown pretty much all over the town before he'd ever gotten his letter, causing the tiny wizarding community a great deal of relief, knowing that the little Malfoy hellion would be gone for most of the year now.

He jumped a bit as he felt Hermione behind him. She kissed the area between his shoulder blades, and then stood beside him, his thin knitted blanket wrapped around her. He blew another puff away from her and the baby within, and smiled weakly down at her as he overheard the town's bells ringing in a new hour.

One…Two…Three…Four…Five…Six…Seven…Eight…Nine…Ten…Eleven…Twelve. Midnight.

"You are seventeen, now."

"Yeah…" he spoke lowly, finishing his cigarette and tossing it onto the grass below.

"You want my present?"

"You got me a gift?"

"I will be right back," she said, and kissed neck, sliding her tongue upwards until it touched his earlobe. She ran off, out of his room and the door shut behind her. It seemed like an eternity until she returned.

She handed him a tiny package, wrapped in silver paper, about the size of a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, but when he opened it while sitting on his bed, that's not what he saw.

Something lay in the box that he didn't quite recognize. It looked like two thick metal bracelets, joined by a small chain in the center, and there were two pairs of these. He picked it up, and looked at it. In the box lay two sets of keys for the two sets of bracelets.

"What are these?"

"They are a very unique Muggle creation. Called handcuffs. Mostly used by law enforcement, but they have other uses as well."

"Like what?"

"Let me show you," she said, kissing him, forcing him to lay back onto the bed. He smiled as she kissed him, sliding her smooth hand up his arm, and got to the thick chains that held his bed up. She wrapped one of the bracelets around his wrist, and the other around the chain. She did the same to his right hand, and then, as he lay naked on his bed, she leaned back from his kiss and smiled. "Now try to touch me," she said, and he moved his hands, and couldn't.

"Cool," he said, and stared at her naked form before him.

"Now you can just lay there – and you do not get the privilege of touching me," she said, smirking and then laughing a bit at herself. She kissed him then, moving her lips to nearly every other part of his body save for most important at this moment. Many times he reached out to grab her and commandeer her, only to have the restraints stop him. She sucked on his skin, giving him tiny hickies on his neck, chest, and thighs, but always managed to miss the erection that stood proudly in the center of the bed.

"Granger," he growled, and she smiled up at him, circling one of his nipples with her tongue. It was almost aching now, begging to be tended to as the rest of his body was treated like a damn lollipop. "You're gonna… you're gonna make me beg, aren't you?" he said as she slid up to meet his face.

"That's kind of the point, Malfoy," she said, kissed him for a second before she heard tiny 'please's emerging from his mouth, at which pointed she slowly began to circle a single finger around his member, and she felt his breath catch in his throat.

He'd waited long enough for her to finally touch him, and it almost scared him a bit when she finally did, and in reaction he burrowed his face into her neck, biting onto the soft, supple skin that rested there. One by one, each finger was added while he paced his breathing into her neck and her other hand ran fingers softly up and down his back. But she was moving at a very slow pace, and he felt like he would crack any minute. His breathing escalated while her speed didn't, and before he could stop himself, he shouted.

"Hermione, quit the bullshit and just fuck me!" He said, and she laughed, backing away from his kiss and moving down, until she lifted herself up over him, lowering herself down upon him. "Ah…" he breathed out, and she slid forward, causing him to then sit up and press his back against the cold metal bars that made his headboard. He thrusted as she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved up and down on him. He wanted to badly to touch her, to put his arms on her back and his hands on her ass and just slam into her, attempting to shag her into oblivion, but she pressed him back against the bed, and looked into his eyes again. She'd remembered the second time they'd done it, and how he'd just stared at her, causing her to lose focus of everything in the world except for him and the hardcore nastiness that was going on. She heard him gasp again, loudly, almost yelling, and then quickened her motions until she was pretty much (and pardon my language, but the phrase is best used in the story in this very moment) fucking the living shit out of Draco Malfoy.

Draco came harder right then than he ever had before, and was almost pretty convinced he'd passed out, until Hermione's words echoed in his ears as she held onto him.

"Happy Birthday."

* * *

**Woo Hoo! Wasn't that fun? I apologize for the long wait, but my friends are on this whole "wanting-to-hang-out-with-me-all-the-time" binge and they won't leave me alone, so… yeah. I'll be back on Monday to start on Chapters 28 and 29 – Draco's Party.**

**Review!**


	29. The Quibbler & Draco Malfoy's Black & Wh...

**Another two-fer.**

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* * *

  
  
**Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Quibbler**  
  
Draco slept quite soundly that morning, having taken the cuffs off even though tiny raw sores were left in his wrists. He awoke, however, and was quite surprised to see his father standing in the room.  
"What do you want?"  
"We need to talk."  
"What the hell? It's like...seven."  
"Get up."  
"Yeah..." he said, shutting his eyes, "come get me in a few hours."  
"Now," he said, and kicked the mattress.  
"Okay, fine. Damn." Draco began to mutter, and reached down, locating his trousers. He slid them on underneath the covers, and removed his right arm from beneath Hermione's head, following Lucius out of the room, and into the study. When he got there, he sighed as his father threw down a copy of the _The Quibbler_. On the cover was a photo of Hermione, a fork in her hand, laughing as she ate with... Potter. Draco lifted an eyebrow and titled his head up to glance at his father.  
"You woke me up for this?"  
"Do you think we're just playing house here, Draco?"  
"I don't understand."  
"We cannot have the future mother of Lord Voldemort flitting about, telling our private matters to all of her old self-righteous friends. How do you know she isn't telling that boy all of our secrets?"  
"Because she doesn't care?"  
"I will not have everything I've worked for compromised."  
"Nothing is being compromised. You need to relax. So where's Ernestine anyway. Did she not stay the night again?"  
"My sexual indiscretions are really none of your business," he said, and rubbed his temples as Draco stood before him, his arms placed harshly on the desk. Lucius' eyes fell to the light pink blisters that lined his son's hands. "What are those?"  
"What are what?"  
"Those blisters on your hands."  
"Father? My sexual indiscretions are none of your business," he said, and reached into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out a pair of the handcuffs. "but in case you were wondering – those were her gift to me."  
"Draco, your relationship with her is becoming quite a thorn in my side."  
"Excuse me?"  
"I don't want you sleeping with her anymore."

* * *

Hermione woke up that morning in Draco's room – completely alone. She was a bit sore in her abs and thigh muscles, from extended movement rather than actual pain this time, and she searched for her clothes, which had been cast off a good twelve or so hours ago. She pulled on a long skirt she'd had, along with a button up short-sleeved shirt. She was heading towards the living room when she stopped after hearing Draco's voice emerge from the study.  
"This is bollocks and you know it!"  
"Draco, this is not a matter of discussion!" Lucius yelled, and Hermione stopped outside of the study, peeking in to see Draco standing, arms crossed behind the desk as Lucius sat in a revolving chair, his nose held in between his fingers, massaging away a headache.  
"You have no right to tell me what to do!"  
"I've already told you that she's staying here as a matter of security and necessity. Not to be your private plaything."  
"I don't understand what the bloody problem is! She's here and I might as well take advantage of it. You taught me that."  
"Draco, if things continue the way they are going, she's going to get attached to you and then its going to be very hard to convince her to leave the baby alone when its born. You have to keep your sex life and your life with little mudblood separate."  
"Well, if I'd done that you wouldn't have the baby to fuck over now would you?! I'm trying to get her attached to me so she'll believe me when I say I won't let that happen. I'm lying my ass off every minute so she'll trust me!"  
"I understand your motives, Draco, but you have a sworn dedication to the Death Eaters! It's on there! On your skin! In black and white and if you continue to make me question your loyalty, I'll just have to kill her."  
"Like hell you will! I swore my body, heart, mind and soul to Lord Voldemort last year, so don't even try to question my motives. But I don't see why I have to-"  
"Don't shag her again, Draco. If I catch you..."  
"No! You know what? You take this and all your rules where the sun does not shine, okay, Father?! You're not allowed to tell me what to do, anymore," Draco yelled, throwing what looked to be a copy of the _The Quibbler _at Lucius.  
"Just because you're of age now does not mean that you have any more say in how you are being raised."  
"That's not why! I heard you last night – with her! In the bed that you shared with my mum before you killed her!" Draco spat, and Hermione gasped as Lucius got up and sent him flying onto the floor with a swift punch, but in Lucius' hand, wrapped around his knuckles, she spied something silver and shiny – her handcuffs.  
"Draco Lucius Malfoy, if you ever mention that again, I will kill you,. I will kill you, I will kill the mudblood and your baby. You keep your mouth shut and do as I say," he said, and Hermione watched Draco spit a few drops of blood onto the floor.  
"Yes, sir."  
"Good. Now your presence annoys me, get out of my sight," he ordered, and Hermione ran back to her room as Draco, his hand over a bleeding lip, headed towards her.

* * *

Draco slowly pushed open the Glass Room door, surprised to see Hermione hurriedly throwing things into her suitcase.  
"What are you doing?" He asked, a tiny scratch where his busted lip had been gushing earlier.  
"I am getting out of here is what I am doing," she cried, leaning down and searching under the bed.  
"Why?"  
"Do not even play like that, Draco, you know why," she said, and pulled out a short black boot, tossing it next to its twin.  
"Do I?"  
"I did not think that you were so incredibly good at lying to me, but now I see. I need to go home. So what if they kick me out? It is better than here."  
"Alright. I'm confused," he said, and she threw a nearby bag at him.  
"Do not lie to me anymore!" Hermione barked, "I heard you in there with your father talking about how you are lying to me all the time. How you are really going to let them use our baby as a sick 'vessel' for your asinine Dark Lord. How you are tricking me into trusting you!"  
"Of course I told him that, Granger. What did you expect me to say? I'm only seventeen and I don't really feel like dying. I had to tell him that. I am not lying to you – I'm lying to him.  
"Another lie!"  
"You're full of it, Granger, you know that? Maybe you just want to leave because you're angry with what you've become!"  
"What I have become? Look, Malfoy, the last week has been absolutely dynamite," she cried sarcastically, tossing a shirt into her suitcase angrily, "but I am really started to get tired of being your damn hooker, alright? You make me feel like a whore."  
"Did it ever cross your mind that maybe you are a whore?" He said, and was not prepared for her to speed across the room and land a swift slap on his face. Had it been Pansy – or had Hermione not been pregnant, Draco was almost certain he would have hit her back, but now he caught her hand as she tried to pull it away. "You're mad, Granger, because you can't stand not hating me. You live in terror of not being mistreated by me and the fact that last night-"  
"Last night was one big mistake."  
"That was one of the most intense moments of my life, and not desperately wanting to cut off your head and play in your dirty blood is annoying me too. The fact that I don't want you dead is quite a new feeling for me, but that is my son in there and I'm willing to deal with you for him, okay? Also, you're occasionally one of the best shags I've had. So maybe I don't hate you anymore, but I'm really glad that I'm back to disliking you."  
"Then we're even."  
"No we're not, girly. You want to explain this to me?" He said, and walked out of the room for a bit, coming back in and tossing a copy of the tabloid at her. There, on the cover, was a picture of her at the London restaurant with Harry, eating and smiling.  
"Making secret meeting arrangements behind my back? I'm working hard to keep my father from realizing that I am not so sure about his Voldemort plans, and there you are, with your future child's greatest enemy, laughing and having a grand ole time. You're gonna get me in even more trouble! And my grade of trouble is quite different than your muggle spankings and groundings and... whatever else it is you freaks do."  
"Look, Malfoy, I just need to get out of here right now. This house is messing with my head."  
"Fine, then, but you have to be back."  
"I know, that, you wanker," she said, and turned around before she left. "And I agree with your father. You probably shouldn't shag me anymore."

* * *

Ron was furious. Now, according to the Prophet, Harry had not only shagged his baby sister behind his back, but was having cozy lunch dates with his ex in muggle London while Ron had not seen the point in leaving his house for the last two weeks. Today was Tuesday, and Saturday was supposed to be this huge party for Malfoy. He'd had no idea where Hermione had gone, but he figured she would probably be at that party, sipping wine and laughing with all of the Slytherins and her new posh friends and wearing long white gloves and a fancy dress and a string of pearls.  
She would probably be beautiful.

* * *

Hermione had left her luggage, and spent the day on a train, traveling all over Britain. She'd simply paid a one-day fare and sat in the back, watching different families get on and off the train. She found herself quite jealous of the happy groups of parents and children, the giggling troops of teenage girls, and even the snogging couple that sat before her for two stops. They all seemed so content with their simple lives, while the bushy haired girl behind them was more or less a pregnant houseguest/witch staying with what was basically only of the most wealthy families in Europe – but no one except those in the wizarding world knew of the Malfoys. Hermione soon found herself wondering what Draco was up to.  
She wouldn't sleep with him anymore! She refused to. Yesterday, she had officially been three months along and in less than two months, Draco would be leaving her at the Manor to go back to Hogwarts and then what? Would Hermione just sit around the mansion with Lucius for almost four months until she had the baby? She'd always imagined having Harry and Ron there at the hospital for her whenever she was having her children, and now she couldn't imagine Ron attending – or even caring. But even worse was her visions of Lucius and Lord Voldemort standing outside the door and stealing the infant from her, Draco following them out. She didn't even know where they stood anymore. Hermione knew he was a Death Eater – an oath not easily broken, and might even go along with the Dark Lord's orders if he disagreed with them. Over her dead body would her son or daughter become the new dark wizard.

* * *

Draco coughed a bit and slowly breathed out as he handed the bong off to Goyle. He'd always been impressed with that muggle invention. Crabbe's squib sister had gotten it for him for his fifteenth birthday and being quite amazed with it, Draco had naturally been given one when he'd turned sixteen. He was astonished at its detail and intricacy. The whole thing was made of green glass, with a snake's open mouth as the bowl. Pansy laughed as Crabbe fell off of the bed, and fell deeper into the pillows as Draco laid next to her.  
He knew he probably should not have been getting high right now – but, damn it, it was his birthday. Also, he was already a bit drunk and had stopped caring a while ago.  
"Stupid wanker," he teased, and dodged a pillow thrown at him by Crabbe. Why had Hermione left? Where was she? He quickly covered Pansy's mouth as she began to laugh harder, "Sh! Seriously! My dad's gonna lose it if we're caught," he ordered, and she nodded as Crabbe got up from the floor, holding a tiny object in his hand. Draco instantly felt his face turning red. In Vincent's grasp was a pair of Hermione's tiny pink thongs.  
"Whoa... whose are these, Dragon boy?"  
"Your mom's." But he avoided the look from Pansy as a sudden knock was heard on his door. "Oh shite!" He cried, and put a pillow over the bong, and tucked it within the bedsheets as Pansy whipped her wand through the air, whispering the incantation that made the smoke invisible and rid the room of the smell. "Yes?"  
"Draco!"  
"Yes, father?"  
"Send your friends home – you've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."  
"Yeah, whatever!" Draco yelled as Goyle laughed.  
"What's going on tomorrow, Draco?"  
"My ball decorators are showing up."  
"Yeah, because you really need someone to decorate your balls."

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**C****hapter Twenty-Nine: Draco Malfoy's Black & White Masque Ball**  
  
Draco'd had quite a hard time deciding what to wear to the ball, considering it was a costume event and Pansy had been insisting that their outfits coordinated. First it had been a cat and mouse, then an Egyptian pharaoh and something that looked close to Cleopatra. Ultimately, they had settled on Draco dressing himself up a demon, and Pansy in an alike get-up. Draco wore a tuxedo, which had been donned with a line of red lamé trim along with a rim of red glitter around his eyes and the tiny red glittery horns that clipped into his well slicked-back and waxed hair. Pansy, of course, had no modesty and wore a low-cut, high-slit red sparkly dress and horns with bright red lipstick and a tiny pitchfork scepter.  
Draco, however, had to face the one thing he'd been dreading, which was watching Ernestine take the Polyjuice potion and turn into Narcissa, while Lucius himself transformed into some random wizard Draco didn't recognize. They had to keep up this charade.  
The main hall of the house now looked amazing, with floating candles resembling spinal chords and skulls, with cobwebs and crimson fire whiskey. The house itself had never looked more foreboding and macabre as guest after guest arrived in carriage after carriage, the house servants flustered in taking their coats.  
Hermione had gotten back late on his birthday, and simply gone to bed without even speaking to him, and now she had retired to the Glass Room where she sat alone reading many books she'd taken from the study.  
Draco held a glass of wine in his red gloved hand, laughing at something that a few of the older guests had to say. His father – still incognito – had informed him of the importance of "schmoozing." And right now he wanted to shoot himself from all of the banal forced small talk he was forced to make with his fathers' friends. Pansy, of course, was the perfect little trophy girlfriend, permanently attached to his elbow unless he left to go make her a drink. Crabbe and Millicent had shown up dressed like vampires, and Goyle had appropriately donned himself to look like Nero, complete with a fiddle. But Blaise and his parents had yet to show up, and Draco himself was quite anxious.  
He hadn't spoken to Blaise since they had fought at the club the night that they finished their sixth year. He hadn't even invited him over for his birthday.  
Pansy was currently regaling one of her private summer tutors with a story about.... Something when Draco looked up as he saw Blaise enter. He was dressed in an entirely black tuxedo – even the vest and dress shirt were that color. His only costume seemed to be a black Mardi Gras face mask that stuck to his eyes, he tossed his coat to a nearby house elf as he took a glass of champagne off of a passing tray and his parents quickly glided off to speak with what Draco struggled to remember as being a Centaur intelligence liaison. Or something.  
He walked over to Draco, smiling jovially, and tossed an arm around him.  
"How ya doin' Draco? Turning the big one-seven, man. I am proud of you. Really, honestly. Is all of Hogwarts here, man?"  
"Pretty much."  
"You still schtupping the mudblood?" He asked, and a nearby elderly woman choked on her wine.  
"Not that its any of your business, Blaise, but no."  
"Could we keep this to polite pleasantries?" Pansy chided him, taking a glass of wine off of a passing tray.  
"What was that he said about mudbloods, young Malfoy?" Mr. Nott said, and Draco shrugged.  
"A mere past indiscretion, Nott. Nothing you need worry about. How are things down at the Ministry?" He said, swallowing another mouthful of wine as his father leaned over to speak to him.

"Are you sure you shouldn't slow down on the wine just a spot?"

* * *

Hermione laid the book down in her room as she heard loud classical music still blaring from Draco's room. She continued to roll over the doctor's appointment she'd gone to yesterday. Her baby had a heartbeat now – and hands and fingers and toes. No gender, though, yet, at least not detectable by current muggle technology. She'd soon found that St. Mungo's didn't have a maternity ward, and the baby would undoubtedly have to be born at the nearby St. Andrew's.  
She wasn't getting sick as often, and her doctor said that soon the morning sickness would subside altogether, but the mood swings and aches and pains would increase. She couldn't wait.

* * *

Draco stared down his new wand from Ollivanders – twelve inches, polished oak, with the blood of a vampire within. The ceremony had been elegant and regal and incredibly fucking lame. Draco looked around, noting only two faces missing from the crowd.

* * *

Hermione now found herself getting quite bored with how she was forced to bide her time in the Glass Room pouring over the volumes of novels she'd borrowed from the Malfoy family. They were full, she found, of history and propaganda and she was sick and tired of reading about the noble cause of Lord Voldemort and his followers.  
She'd liked Draco's room. It was quite a departure from all of the floral prints and family photos and posters of Take That. His was not the bedroom of your average teenage boy. Hermione closed the book she'd been reading as she heard a thump outside of her door. She sighed as the thud was heard again, and following by the rattling of her door knob, which flew open and she saw two brunettes tumbling in, and it looked like a demon was trying to hump some wizard form of Batman. But Hermione gasped as she realized who had fallen into her room.  
"What the hell are you doing here?" Pansy Parkinson asked, standing quickly up.  
And nervously, Blaise looked around for Draco.

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**The previous chapter was actually supposed to be much longer, with the following events and the after-party, but I felt like needed to update and the details could hold their racin' horses until a later chapter, while my loving readers couldn't. Sorry for the wait.  
  
Hooray for J.K. Rowling, who – by the way, officially named the sixth book.**

**_ Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince!_  
  
Review, and watch out for Dawn and Frankie! **

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	30. Two Women, Better than One

**Chapter Thirty: Two Women, Better than One**  
  
"I won't ask you again, mudblood. What are you doing here?" Pansy spat, standing quickly up and wobbling for a second.  
"Pansy, you're really tipsy, maybe we should just go into another room," Blaise recommended, but she was beyond convincing.  
"Answer me, bitch!"  
"I live here, Pansy," Hermione said slowly, not moving an inch. Blaise then tried to grab Pansy's arm, but she threw off his grasp and charged quickly at Hermione.  
"How dare you say my name, you impure skank!"  
"Look Pansy, Blaise is right, you should probably just leave."  
"What in the world gives you the right to tell me how to live my life?!" Pansy slurred. "And what the hell are you doing living here anyway, Granger?"  
"I was invited. Okay? Draco seems to want to keep this baby around."  
"What?!" She asked, and looked quickly at Blaise. He stared at the ground.  
"Yeah, well I bet the baby isn't even his, you big fat pregnant slut!" Pansy yelled, and Hermione felt her blood growing hot, but she simply bit her lip and shut her eyes.  
"Pansy, I am not the slut here, alright? I am not the one who was on my way to shag my boyfriend's best mate at his birthday party."  
"Shut up!" Pansy said, and shoved her. Hermione stepped back a bit as Blaise rushed forward and grabbed Pansy.  
"Let's go."  
"Get your hands off of me, you bloody queer!" She yelled and pushed Blaise back. "I should have fucking done it myself. You can't accomplish anything."  
"Done what?" Hermione asked as Blaise left the room in a hurry.  
"You're so fucking naïve, you know that? You really think Blaise wanted to fuck _you_?" She laughed, "please. I paid him to do it."  
"What?"  
"You think I'd let you walk around carrying my future husband's baby, interfering with my life after I'd told you – _I TOLD YOU_ – to stay away from him? I figured that maybe if the rape didn't cause you a bloody miscarriage then maybe the O.D. would." She spat in one breath.  
"But you failed, Pansy. Now get out," she whispered, her chin quivering  
"Excuse me?"  
"**_Get the hell out! _**" Hermione yelled, shoving her back.  
"Who are you to tell me to leave?"  
"Do not you come into my house, where I live, and tell me what to do you skanky cow!"  
"You don't love him! I love him!"  
"You love him?! When you were coming in this room to bugger his best friend?" And Hermione was taken aback when Pansy suddenly hit her. She stepped back for a second, and checked for blood. There was none, but she found herself falling into quite a dangerous mood swing as she lunged for Pansy, and gripped her neck, pulling her to the doorframe.  
"For the last time, Parkinson – get out of my fucking room!" She said, and tossed her out into the hall where she collided with a breathless Blaise, who was followed by an equally flushed and winded Draco.  
"What in bloody-"he began, but Hermione quickly interrupted him.  
"You keep her the hell away from me! If I see her near here again, I'll kill her!" She screamed, and slammed the door as Pansy cradled the back of her head.  
"Bitch..." she slurred, and Blaise picked her up.  
"Look," Draco began, "maybe the two of you should leave."

* * *

After the fight, Hermione had locked her door and wouldn't speak to anyone – not even Draco, who soon found himself back in the ballroom which had thankfully been loud enough to muffle the sounds of Hermione and Pansy screaming at each other. Draco was now growing closer and closer to being incredibly tipsy when Crabbe and Goyle found him.  
"Hey guys," he said, tipping back another glass. "What's up?"  
"We're about to leave, but we wanted to let you know that we left your gift in your bedroom."  
"What?"  
"Just... be prepared for a long night, man." Crabbe said before the two of them left with their parents. Draco had no idea what they were talking about, but he was forced by etiquette to stay in the ballroom until all of the guests had left.  
Ernestine and his father turned back into themselves and then Lucius excused them to his room. Draco sighed, knowing what was going to happen and he started to wonder how different his life would be now if Narcissa was still here. But these are not things that Draco wanted to think about drunk, as he stumbled back to his bedroom. He pushed the door open, and felt butterflies suddenly grow in his stomach as he realized what exactly Crabbe and Goyle's present was.  
"Are you Draco?" one of the two girls asked, and he nodded, kicking off his shoes. She, despite her tight and lacy hot pink underwear and voluptuous form had an apple-cheeked childlike face, and great big eyes. She looked a bit like the human version of a kitten animagus. "My name is Dawn, and this is Frankie," she said, gesturing to her friend on the other side of Draco's bed. Frankie was wearing underwear that closely matched Dawn's except that it was black. Frankie was much darker and exotic-looking than Dawn. She had long, curled dark brown hair with blonde highlights and looked somewhat Arabian or Egyptian. Her eyes were mysterious and dark. Draco couldn't help but smile.  
"You're American," he smirked, "Are you fleshies?" He asked, and Frankie furrowed her eyebrows, looking at Dawn.  
"What's a fleshy?" Dawn asked, pensively looking at Draco as he walked closer to the bed.  
"Well, you certainly aren't witches then. A 'fleshy'," he said, setting one of his knees on the mattress, "is a word we wizards use to describe muggles that are a bit of wizard groupies," he continued, tossing off his demonic-looking costume cape as Dawn came eye-to-eye with him and he kissed her quickly, "who just run around shagging every wizard they can." Draco shut his eyes as he kissed Dawn intensely, holding her head with his hands.  
"You mean," Frankie spoke lowly, crawling around to the back of Draco, "rich and powerful wizards like you?" she said, and placed kisses onto the skin above his spine, and he sighed outwardly at the sensation as her hands encircled his torso, beginning to undo the top button of his black silk dress shirt. He nodded, and Dawn smirked.  
"Well then that's what we are," she said and joined Frankie's hands in undressing him as she placed a kiss on his collarbone. "Your birthday gift," and as these words left her lips as they began to nurse intensely on the exposed skin of his pec, the words of Crabbe and Goyle echoed in his head.

_Be prepared for a long night..._

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**Coming soon: The last full sex scene of Sixth Year Itch, but at least I'm going out with a bang! Sorry so short, but I wanted full concentration for my next chapter, because I owe it to a few peeps. winkwink  
  
Review!**


	31. Dawn and Frankie

**The following vignette is my last visual sex scene of the story. That is not to say that no one else will shag, it just won't be as graphic as the following. Also, the following section does contain femme slash, as it _is_ a threesome, so if you don't like that kind of stuff, just scroll down and read eveything below this - "!!!" Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Thirty-One: Dawn and Frankie**  
  
Draco's mind was racing. He had the best friends in the world. Of course, he failed to remember, there were insane amounts of wine flowing through his system right now as Frankie, who was behind him latched on to his neck, tossed his shirt across the room.  
Dawn kissed him harshly as he felt her long, soft nails sliding down his chest towards his belt. The silver buckle with the snake emblem was soon in her hands as Draco gasped and felt Frankie unzip his trousers. He lifted his hands up, as if to surrender as Frankie pulled him onto his back, and took over Dawn's position of kissing him. His hands encircled her head, as Dawn tossed his trousers across the room and ran her tongue over his stomach. Suddenly, however, his kiss with Frankie ended.  
"Heads or tails?" She asked, and he narrowed his eyes in drunken confusion. Figuring out his dismay, she held up a small American penny.  
"Oh," he said, "heads." He answered, and she tossed it in the air. It, of course, landed on heads, and Dawn smiled. "What?" He asked, and they said nothing, but Frankie began kissing him again. She pulled away, and unhooked her bra, and Draco didn't even move when she straddled his stomach and bent down to kiss him as he took hold of her chest. He even felt himself beginning to smirk when he heard a throaty gasp escape her mouth as he slid his tongue around upon her left breast, and he wondered what Dawn was up to, but suddenly he was well aware.  
"Oh..." he managed to get out before Frankie's mouth was back upon his lips while Dawn's was busy encircling his cock. He struggled, hating not being able to react, and gripped tightly onto her hair as he kissed her. It was such an odd feeling. Having never had two girls at once, Draco was not used to being kissed while having other parts of his body orally pleasured as well. Reckon, he'd gotten head hundreds of times, but this – Dawn was extravagant. He was sure that, due to the quality of the job and the amount of liquor in his system, he would be finishing very, very- "Wait," he said, and she stopped.  
"What?" Dawn asked from behind Frankie.  
"It's just," he gasped, still gripping onto her hair, "that I'm really drunk and I don't know if-"  
"You think you're gonna come too soon?" Frankie asked, kissing his neck lightly. He nodded, and she grinned. "Well don't worry, sweetheart." She said, and climbed off his waist, and headed over next to him.  
"What are you doing?"  
"Not you," she said, and Draco honestly thought he was going to die when she laid down and Dawn's lips met hers, and he found himself with two women making out with each other on his bed. This was actually quite brilliant, he thought. No pleasure for him, but still enough to keep him aroused, especially when Dawn began to wrap her mouth around Frankie's nipple, and Frankie cried out. Draco, of course, began to kiss her, and even felt her shudder suddenly. He looked up from his kiss, and saw that Dawn's lips had sunk down to about the rim of Frankie's black lace knickers.  
"Holy shit, is she gonna-"but he was silenced as Frankie kissed him, her breathing becoming more intense and rapid as he was sure that Dawn had commenced to doing to Frankie what she'd just stopped doing to him. Frankie even began to let out small whimpers and Draco soon came to the conclusion that she would probably end up being quite noisy. He smirked when she managed to latch onto his hand – so tightly, and screamed during their kisses.  
"Your turn," Dawn said from between Frankie's legs and he looked up.  
"What?"  
"She's primed, Draco. Get in there and shag the living daylights out of her," she said, and giggled a bit at the word "shag." He smiled as he kissed Frankie, moving himself from beside her to on top of her.

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_Sweet mercy, what was going on in this house?!_ Hermione thought as she tried to go to bed, still upset from her fight with Pansy. How could she have done that? Put her baby in jeopardy like that? She sighed in irritation as more rhythmic thuds and slowly crescendo-ing yelps were heard from what she thought the be Lucius' room.  
She was quite thankful she'd never overheard her mum and dad doing Merlin-knows-what, but now Lucius seemed not to care if the entire town of Magi Proper knew that he was buggering his party planner.  
But this girl's screams were different. Higher, more youthful sounding.  
"Oh, God!" His victim screamed, and Hermione's ears perked up. That wasn't a witch at all. It was a Muggle, and an American muggle at that. She searched around for her slippers, knowing that Draco would have well heard that outburst and be rather upset. But she encountered quite a different sight when she burst through Draco's door, after quickly uttering his password.

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He'd been right. Frankie was loud. _LOUD._ He'd even been somewhat frightened that his father would hear, but he didn't care. The girl suddenly went rigid for a second, and kissed him before suddenly going quit fluid, her death grip on his back loosening.  
"_What the hell_?" He heard, and looked up from his spot in front of Frankie. He had not remained above her long, as she had soon moved onto his lap as he pressed her against the headbord – just as Hermione had done to him. And now the very mother of his child was standing in his doorway, looking simply – shocked.  
"Get out and shut the fucking door!" He yelled as Frankie and Dawn stared at her.  
"You didn't lock your damn door?" Dawn asked incredulously. Draco shot a look at her and turned back around to Hermione as Frankie got off of him and he grabbed a nearby blanket.  
"You stay out of this, Dawn."  
"Oh well at least you know her name," Granger barked as he headed towards her. "You really amaze me, you know that. Defending me from Parkinson when you were just planning on shagging a couple of Americans, Draco?!"  
"I wasn't planning on it, baby, it just sort of happened."  
"Okay, don't you dare call me baby and two – shit just doesn't happened."  
"We happened."  
"**That** was one giant mistake. A mistake that in case you forgot, got me pregnant and in all kinds of trouble and I'm trying to work my way through all this shite and _you're in here having a fucking three-way_!"  
"I am drunk!"  
"You're a Malfoy!" She yelled, and held herself back from slapping him, which was, once again, something she wanted to do more than anything in the world.  
"Hermione," he began, but she held up her hand.  
"Just shut up and go back to your yankee whores." She screamed, and turned away, heading out of the room.  
"I am not a whore!" Frankie yelled as Hermione slammed the door.  
"You're having a baby?" Dawn asked, looking once again innocent and confused.  
"Yeah, but that bitch there was a mere technicality," he said, and beckoned Dawn to him from off of the bed, where she walked up to him. "Now, where were we?" He asked, smirking and kissing her as they walked into the bathroom. She sat up on the counter where Draco removed her panties and began to fuck her right there on the counter. She was quieter than Frankie had been, but a bit more forceful in what she wanted as well.  
"Take me back to the bed," she commanded, and he did as she asked, and soon she was straddling him as Frankie laid on his chest, kissing him as Dawn circled her breasts with her tongue, but now – Damn it, he couldn't the image of the pissed of mudblood out of his mind, even as he came a few minutes before Dawn did. He didn't even care if she was finished and pulled out of her, rolling over in bed as Frankie took over the pleasuring duties.  
  
He fell asleep soon after they were finished, and the two American birds framed him, Dawn on his right and Frankie on his left, and he was amazed at how little he wanted to be touched right now, even in his drunken state.

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Hermione couldn't explain it. Was she _jealous_? All she knew was that her mind was of two decisions about whether to commence hard core crying, or go in there and beat the shit out of him and those two colonist sluts. She couldn't get the image out of her mind. Draco pinning that poor girl to his headboard and slamming into her as she screamed sacrilege and obscenities. It was too much.  
She had been so distraught on the way back to the Glass Room that she hadn' even seen Lucius walking towards her. All she'd done was bump into him, and very callously shove the individual, screaming – "Get the fuck out of my way!" before stopping herself from crying. She'd only realized that it was Draco's father she'd accosted when she turned to her room.  
Hermione didn't sleep, but instead watched the sky turned from its pitch raven black to light blue. She watched the sunrise. And now it was practically day as she heard her door open, and she rolled over in bed to see Draco, white as a sheet, and shaking, his eyes wide as saucers. His breath was shallow and quick, as if he was hyperventilating, with nothing but his boxers and the blanket wrapped around him.  
"Draco, oh my goodness, what's wrong?"  
"They're dead."  
"Who's dead? Did you have a, nightmare or something?" She asked, knowing how sometimes her babysitting charges would have bad dreams and confuse their nightmares with reality. She'd even thought Harry'd done it a few times with the Lord Voldemort thing before finally believing him. "Draco?"  
"The two American girls from last night! They're dead! Dawn and Frankie are dead."

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**Ten more actual REVIEWS and I update!**


	32. Doubtful

**I apologize for asking for a certain number of reviews, but unless I do that, I usually just get "great story" and no real feedback, and hearing what my readers really think is very important to me. I just want to know what you guys want – that's what helps me write, so thanks for all the fabulous reviews.**

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Chapter Thirty-Two: Doubtful  
  
Draco awoke early that morning, feeling quite achy and nauseous due to the massive amount of wine he'd imbibed that night. He took a deep breath in, and sighed as he felt more weight on the bed. _I guess Dawn and Frankie are still here_, he remembered, and reached out to touch Frankie, but he felt his throat suddenly go dry as the flesh he caressed was not the warm, supple, and sweaty skin he remembered from last night. It was taut ... and cold. Opening his eyes slowly, he shoved himself away in horror as he beheld her, her middle-eastern skin now deathly pale and bereft of all color. Her full, luscious lips were now rigormortis and blue.  
As he moved back, he spun in a panic as his back hit the corpse of someone else. Turning over, he saw Dawn, lifeless as Frankie. His mind was racing a million miles a minute as he struggled for a way to get off of the bed without having to touch them. He held back the vomit that he was sure was bulding up in his stomach and climbed over Frankie, trying not to breath her in as his feet landed on the ground and he quickly slid on boxers. He looked up quickly, and jumped back in the shock that – DAWN WAS LOOKING AT HIM! _SHE WAS FUCKING STARING AT HIM! _Her eyes were dead and soulless, but they were pointing directly at him as he grabbed the blanket off of his couch and raced towards the door, slamming it behind him as he screamed and flung himself against it, the cold steel pressing against him as he began to sweat bullets. He ran away. Ran away. Ran away.  
He threw open the door to Hermione's room and she turned over to see him. "Draco, oh my goodness, what's wrong?"  
"They're dead."  
"Who's dead? Did you have a, nightmare or something?" She asked, and stared at him, confused. "Draco?"  
"The two American girls from last night! They're dead! Dawn and Frankie are dead!" He yelled, and plopped down, unable to control his breathing. It was deep, and he didn't doubt that if he stopped the gasping, he would either throw up or pass out.  
"Draco, you're turning red, you need to calm down your breathing."  
"Are you fucking listening to me? Didn't you hear me?!"  
"Okay... what happened?" She asked, gesturing for him to come to the bed. He stood up, shaking, and walked over to her and sat across from her.  
The movement was very reminiscent to him of his mother watching over him when he had the flu as a child. The way Hermione pushed back his hair and made eye contact with him as she tried her best to speak softly and comfortingly.  
"I woke up this morning and... I could smell them. And then I felt them. They're still in there, just laying in my bed. They have moms and dads and families that don't know they're here. And now they're just... rotting in some Death Eater's bed. I couldn't take it. I can't take it." He said, and kissed her roughly. But he looked back up at her as she pushed him away.  
"No."  
"What?"  
"I cannot let you do this all of the time, Draco. You cannot just solve all your problems by shagging someone – or with drugs. Talk to me."  
"Did you see anyone?"  
"What?"  
"Did you see anyone outside my room? Who killed them?" He asked, desperately, and Hermione looked away in deep thought. "What? You know something? YOU FUCKING KNOW!" He yelled, and she looked at him.  
"Your father was outside the room when I left."  
"I'm gonna kill him."

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Lucius was asleep in his bedroom, alone, when Draco burst in. He stirred for a bit when Draco picked up a nearby vase and tossed it at him.  
"Wake up!" Draco barked, and Lucius lifted his head.  
"Morning, Draco. Did you enjoy your party?" His father asked, throwing on a long black flowing bed robe.  
"Don't give me that shit. Tell me why you did it."  
"Why I did what?"  
"WHY YOU KILLED THEM!"  
"Killed who, Draco?"  
"Frankie and Dawn – the girls in my bedroom. They're dead now and I know you did it so tell me why! Death Eaters do not lie to each other, Father, it's in the oath!"  
"I killed them," he said, picking up his cane. He marveled at it for a second, but ultimately decided against it and set it back down, looking slowly back at his son. "Because they were the worst kind of people. Women, Americans, whores, muggles, practically lesbians! What in our Dark Lord's noble name were you trying to do to us, Draco?"  
"That's not the real reason, and stop lying to me! If you killed everyone in the world with whom you disagreed, there would be no one left but yourself. There are two very young girls in my bed who are... fucking dead for no reason!" He yelled, and gasped as Lucius headed towards him, and lifted him up on the wall, strangling him as he gulped for air. Lucius moved closer to him as Draco eyes started to roll back in his head. They were so close that Draco could practically smell him.  
"No reason, Draco? No reason? Does the fact that they know about the baby make it no reason? The existence of this child must be kept in the utmost secrecy. You exposed not only our world to muggles, but also our secrets. They had to die," he finished and dropped Draco to the ground. Between his desperate gasps, he managed to choke out a few words.  
"They were just kids! Not even sixteen yet! What are you going to do, Father, kill everyone who knows about this baby?"  
"Who else knows?"  
"Blaise and Pansy and Potter."  
"Ah, Parkinson is of Death Eater descent so she is of no concern to me. As for Zabini, well, we'll see. And Potter has it coming to him anyway."  
"You're wrong!" Draco spat, and Lucius tilted his head, looking at him. "You're so self-righteous. I bet the Dark Lord hasn't told you to kill anyone! You're doing it all by yourself and you just want to hide behind him! Well I'm over it! I **_refuse _**to put up with your Death Eater bollocks anymore." Draco said, not realizing the blasphemy of what had just left his mouth before it was too late.  
"You doubt the Dark Lord?" Lucius asked for a second, backing up.  
"That's not what I said."  
"Would you like to state your suspicions to his face?"  
"No, sir – I would not."  
"We'll see," Lucius drawled, and waved his hand to dismiss Draco. "Be here later tonight, my Dragon."  
With that, Draco turned and quickly left the room. He soon stood before his door, and knew in his heart that there was no way he could enter. Their bodies were still in there, eyes open, nude. Dead. He turned away from the door, and slid to a solemn sit in the hallway. There was only one place for him to go.

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It was an odd feeling of comfort that Hermione felt with Draco sleeping next to her. He'd come in a few minutes after he'd left and she'd heard a bit of yelling emit from Lucius' bed chamber. It was probably well into the afternoon when she felt him stir next to her.  
"He's going to make me prove my faith," he said, whispering to her. Hermione rolled over in the bed to face him.  
"What?"  
"It's a Death Eater ritual. If someone finds you doubtful of the Dark Lord's ways, you have to prove your faith. It's really painful."  
"Then don't do it."  
"I have to."  
"Why?"  
"Because if I don't, then there is no reason for them to keep you around. If I begin to doubt, they'll know that we're not going to let them make the baby the new-"  
"So you've finally made a decision about that?"  
"Yes," Draco said, kissing her. It was different this time. Not lustful and pursuant of sex as all of his previous kisses had been, but it was of comfort and solace. They parted, and she looked at him. He almost looked as if he was about to cry. "I don't care anymore about all of this bullshit. I mean, before I could understand when he killed. It was to further our family or the Death Eaters. Even my mother's death seemed to have a plausible reason, even though it was a shitty, fucked up reason. But Frankie and Dawn – he just killed them for fun. I know it. I can't let my kid think that, let alone be the cause for it all."  
"So what are we gonna do?" Hermione asked him.  
"Everything possible to stop it. How many months do we have left?"  
"Six." 


	33. Baby Talk

Hello, everyone. Sorry the update took so long, but I've currently been working on a fansite for the actor, Norman Reedus (of Gossip and 8MM). Sorry it's so short.

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**Chapter Thirty-Three: Baby Talk**  
  
Draco couldn't help but stare at her as she slept. He'd never really thought of her as being beautiful. At the most before this moment, she'd been pretty. She'd been acceptable to look at. But now he was staring at her, amazed at how pregnancy had managed to change her. She had this glow about her now.  
He tried, but he couldn't sleep right now. Every time he shut his eyes, all he saw were Dawn and Frankie, who had died for no reason, and his father's sick smirk. He wanted to badly to take his father's cane and just stab him in the heart. But that would make Draco an orphan. Like Potter. He cringed.  
"I can't sleep with you looking at me," she said, opening her eyes. "You want me to perform a Somnus Charm or something?"  
"No. I can't get them out of my head."  
"So you're really not going along with the whole Lord Voldemort possession thing?"  
"I'm gonna pretend I am, or they might as well kill us. And the baby," he said, and cocked his head. "I don't think I'll ever speak to him again... Didn't you have a doctor's appointment yesterday or something?" She nodded. "So how'd it go? Is it a boy or a girl?"  
"They said the baby's fine and healthy, but they can't figure out what it is yet."  
"Well don't worry, we'll get you another appointment in August and find out."  
"I'd rather be surprised."  
"Why?"  
"It's a girl thing. I just want that moment when they go 'It's a boy!' or 'It's a girl!' to be real thrilling-like."  
"Do you know where you're going to have the baby?"  
"Well, it was born at St. Andrew's in London."  
"A Muggle hospital? Gross..."  
"Well St. Mungo's doesn't really have a maternity ward, Malfoy. They're meant for magical maladies and injuries and this baby happened the old-fashioned way."  
"Yeah, you're probably right. I'll put in a word to one of the servants to try and locate a wizarding midwife or something. You won't find me in a muggle hospital. No way, no how," he said, and slid down on the pillow so he was laying next to her. "So have you thought of names yet?"  
"What?" She asked, caught suddenly off guard. He shrugged towards her. "Are we actually about to have a real conversation about the baby? And our future?!" She asked, mocking him with an open-mouthed smile, and laughed. "Well, I've decided that if it's a girl, I'd wanted to name it Hildegarde." She said, and shot a glance at Draco for a response. He kept his eyes on her for quite a bit.  
"Hildegarde?"  
"It's a strong name."  
"It's a lesbian name."  
"No it's not."  
"Why don't we just save her years of crisis and name her Hildegarde Lesbian Malfoy?" he said, and Hermione pouted, obviously defeated in this argument. But then her mind caught on his previous statement.  
"Why does she have your last name?"  
"I don't know. I just put it on there."  
"I hope you're not planning on marrying me."  
"Oh no – Merlin, no."  
"Well what's gonna happen in January?"  
"What about January?"  
"That's when the baby comes, you nitwit!" She said, slapping him playfully, but then the mood changed back to one of contemplation and seriousness. She picked at her nails, and followed her eyes around the room, even up to the ceiling where she could see herself, laying in bed in her nightgown next to a quite bewildered and confused Draco Malfoy. It was a site she could honestly say that – four months ago – she'd have never expected to exist. "And what about September? You go back to school and – "  
"Just stay here with my father. He'll try to win you over so he'll have servants waiting on you hand and foot. But, for now, we have to pretend to be okay with the possession. Can you do that?"  
"I can. Draco?"  
"Yes?"  
"Where do we stand?" She asked.  
"I'm tired. Goodnight."


	34. Proving the Faith

**Hogwarts new Headmistress: As much as I appreciate input, this is not the last of Ron Weasley. I know exactly how the story is going to end and believe me. It's a doozy.  
  
Thanks to everyone for reviewing and I hope you all realized that Dawn and Frankie WERE entirely necessary characters and the fact that they are Americans really had nothing to do with why I killed them off. The only reasons they were Americans to begin with was because the girls they're based on are Americans.  
  
Also, you are all strongly encouraged to IM me with your thoughts, too. I LOVE HEARING FROM MY READERS. (AIM ID: nfmadprops04)**

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**Chapter Thirty-Four: Proving the Faith**  
  
Draco stood nervously in the Death Eater's temple at midnight that night. He'd known right after he'd told Lucius that he was "over it" that there would be consequences, but he didn't know they were going to be this dire. He hadn't expected that his father would make him prove his faith. He'd been to a few of these, and it was awful to witness. If the Dark Lord doubted you, he let you die, right there in front of everyone.  
The room that surrounded them was almost entirely black and silver and green, with snakes wrapping around every single piece of bare wall. There were no pews in the Death Eater temple. No one was ever exceedingly comfortable in this world, and despite the fact that it was still July the room was incredibly cold. Draco shivered underneath the black robe as the entire congregation awaited the Dark Lord's arrival.  
The black robe covered everyone except for his face. Lucius stared out at Draco from beneath his robe as the fireplace roared for a second, and the entire congregation quieted as Lord Voldemort walked out from the fireplace. Draco felt his blood rushing through his body at what seemed to be a million miles an hour, which was not a good thing considering the near events. As Draco looked up, he suddenly felt himself grow rather light- headed and hit the ground. He realized soon that someone had cast the Imperius Curse, and all he could think about was bowing and respect, but his head came up and his eyes met with that of the Dark Lord, who began to bore into his mind.  
"Whoever is controlling this boy, release him." He spat, and Draco felt the weight settle back on him, and the fear rein him in again.  
"I have heard from a close source, Draco, that you stated you didn't want to serve me anymore."  
"That was a mistunderstanding, Lord. I was in an odd mood."  
"Because your father saw fit to sacrifice the lives of two muggles?"  
"I was on many different kinds of behavior modifying drugs, Lord."  
"Which we sometimes learn better help us express our true feelings. I trust you know how important you are to the cause."  
"I do, Lord."  
"Hold out your hands." The Dark Lord commanded, and Draco drew in a deep breath.  
"No." There was a worried gasp escaping from the crowd. No one ever defied Lord Voldemort – especially in group meeting like this.  
"Do it, Draco." Lucius yelled.  
"I will not!" He said, not standing up. "I trust the Lord with my entire heart and soul. I should not have to prove it!" He cried, and soon the overwhelming feeling of aloofness overtook him and he threw out his hands before him, his wrists turned up. In one swift move, a dagger appeared from the Dark Lord's cloak and flew in front of Draco. He let out a scream and at that moment, the curse lifted and he was keenly aware of a searing sensation ripping through his wrists. He looked down, and saw his blood spilling out of his arms onto the floor beneath him.  
"Prove your faith!" Lord Voldemort commanded, and Draco looked up at him, dizzy with pain. He knew that if he didn't do as he was told, right then, he would die.  
"I believe in the Dark Lord, and everything he stands for. Everything." He cried, staring at the open gashes on his wrists. "And will do everything in my power to see that he is a god in our world. If I do not have that power, I shall," Draco felt as if he was going to pass out, "achieve it."  
"Very good. Now, to whom does your child belong?"  
"Y-you, Lord." He felt as if someone was setting his hands on fire. Conscience would soon slip from him.  
"And what stands in the way of my soul and your child?"  
"Nothing, Lord."  
"Not even the mudblood."  
"Not even – oh shit – not even the mudblood, Lord."  
"Would you kill her if she stood in our way?"  
"What?" Draco asked, his nausea and fear and pain still ripping through his body. "Yes! Yes I would! Just please.... _Make this shit stop!"_ He screamed, and the Dark Lord knelt before him. Draco felt his eyes growing hot as he looked at him, but he never cried. He hadn't cried since... well, he couldn't really remember. And he would not do it now, in front of his Dark Lord and the entire Death Eater coalition.  
Lord Voldemort reached out his hands, and Draco winced and grunted at the pain of having his skin press into his open wrists. Draco stared him down, and soon the pain faded away. Looking down at his arms, he was relieved to see that the gaping slits were now closed, and the searing sensation was gone, but two scars were left on his wrists – raised pink snakes.  
"Consider yourself trusted. But you know the penalty for betrayal."  
"Yes, Lord, I do."

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"To be honest, Ronald, I don't think she's with Potter. That was probably all a misunderstanding," Fred said down at the store as he and Ron looked at the cover of the Quibbler that had come out a bit ago. On the cover, Hermione laughed as she ate with Harry.  
"It makes perfect sense doesn't it, though? They fuck the Weasleys, then they fuck each other. It's dutch-door action."  
"They've made some bad life decisions, I'll reckon, but I really don't think Hermione was into Harry."  
"Yeah, just stupid rich bitch pureblood Death Eater twits like Malfoy."  
"Give him a break, George."  
"I'm just sayin'."  
"Have you tried owlin' her, Ron?" Fred asked, using his wand to place dozens of Extendable Ears on a high shelf.  
"What would I say? Thanks for shitin' on me heart, love. Write back?"  
"It would certainly warrant a reaction."  
"I just don't understand why she didn't just tell me. I mean, she could have just broken up with me if she liked Ferretface more."  
"So you didn't take her virginity?"  
"I don't know. It was hard to gauge, but Malfoy said he did it."  
"Well just talk to her when you go back to school."  
"I just might."

* * *

Hermione sat at the window in the library, her knees pulled up under her chin. She'd decided that, now, she would look at her feet as much as possible while they were still skinny and visible. The book she'd found (which she'd discovered to be Narcissa's manual during her pregnancy with Draco) had told her her feet would swell. Fun.  
She caught herself thinking about the baby more and more, especially since she knew Draco would be leaving soon. She looked up.  
An owl was flying directly towards the window, but before it hit it, the owl stopped. Obviously not Errol, and it was too big to be Pig and too worn and perky to be Hedwig. Then she saw the crest on its wing. A Hogwarts owl.  
Opening the window, she took the scroll out of its claw and read.

* * *

_Dear Miss Granger,  
  
This letter was to inform you that the school had decided you to be Head Girl, along with the election of Draco Malfoy as Head Boy due to his fine grades and compliance with school rules. However, certain recent developments had led to a few heated meetings. Hogwarts is a fine school as well you know, and acceptance, as well as attendance is quite a privilege. We here feel that, while you are a fine student, that your presence would reflect badly on the school and as well lead to much unnecessary distraction in the classrooms. We hope that this does not ruin what you had thought to be your senior year, and we happily invite you to return as soon as possible when you find yourself fit.  
  
With our deepest condolences and best wishes, _

_ Albus Dumbledore_

* * *

Hermione laid the letter at her feet, and felt the area above her stomach start to heat and ache. She didn't move when tears began to slide slowly down her cheeks. There was no way around this. Somehow, everyone would know something was up when she didn't arrive at Platform 9¾ on September first.  
"Is something wrong?" She heard a voice, and looked up to see Draco.  
"Yeah, sure."  
"Unless you're having a totally killer mood swing, I would say everything is not all keen. What's that?"  
"A letter from Hogwarts," she said, climbing down from the window.  
"Oh?" He asked, raising his eyebrows as she walked near him. "What'd they say?"  
"They're not letting me come back. I got elected Head Girl, but they're not letting me come back!" She cried, and gulped in sheer shock when Draco hugged her. He reached out slowly, and soon she found herself attempting to stop herself from crying in his arms. "What happened to you?"  
"Ah, I had a really bloody bad night. And it looks like your day's not shaping up to be any better," he whispered, and she laughed lightly.  
"They said I could come back when I'm better 'fit.' "  
"Ah, fuck 'em. You're fine how you are." He said, and pulled away, smiling. "Of course we need to locate the stick you used to brush your hair."  
"Shut up!" She said, and hit him. She pressed down on her head for a second, and started to leave. "I feel icky. I think – no, I need to go take a shower."  
"Hey Hermione," he said, and she turned around.  
"Yeah?"  
"Did the letter say who got Head Boy?"  
"Yeah."  
"Then who?"  
"Like I said," she replied, smirking and remembering his secrecy last night. "I gotta go take a shower."

* * *

****

**Please review!**


	35. Back on the Platform

**Sorry so long for the update, but I've been in California for a while. There will probably be more thick time jumps in the chapters now because the baby is more of the focus now, but enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 35: Back on the Platform**

It was an odd feeling, being back on the platform, knowing that this time she would not return. It had taken a lot of coaxing from Draco to even convince her to get in the Malfoy car. She kept insisting that Draco could go on his own, apparate there now that he was of age, but in the last six weeks, he had grown actually quite fond of her presence. He was more at ease with her around, and having her near him on his first day as Head Boy was a heavy comfort.

Hermione, however, felt nervous enough for the both of them. Not only was Draco's driver waiting near the exit for her, but she was actually starting to show. Her stomach was puffed out a bit now, not big enough to show immensely, but she was obviously pregnant when wearing only a single layer of clothes. That being the case, she had donned a thick sweater to cover up her belly. Lucius had, of course, opted not to go this time because of his still-believed incarceration.

"Hermione!" She heard, and looked up as she saw a very happy-looking Harry running towards her. He reached out to hug her tightly, and he blushed a bit when they parted, putting his hand to her stomach. "You're getting big now."

"Oh thanks, Harry, I did not quite need to hear that!" She said, hitting him playfully as Harry looked her over.

"Where's your badge?"

"Oh, um, I am not going back. I do not think it would be a good idea what with the baby coming in January. I'll just finish up my classes then with the Time Turner again."

"You decided this?"

"Yes," she lied. She knew how sensitive Harry's relationship to Dumbledore was, and right now she didn't want to do anything that might disrupt that precious balance. At that moment, two red heads burst through the barrier.

"Look, I just wanted to tell you that I've reread your letters and-"

"Potter." Hermione heard, and looked over her shoulder to see Draco heading towards her. He was moving at his regular somewhat condescendingly slow manner, but he managed to crack a weak smile at Harry. She didn't know what had come over Draco since he'd seen those two girls in his bed, but he had learned controlled civility. He could now be polite when the occasion called for it.

"Malfoy," Harry said, shooting a quick puzzled glance at Hermione before returning to the icy blue stare. "I trust you're taking care of my girl here."

"Oh, don't be daft, Potter. She's not your girl. But yes – I am doing my best to see that she gets the best. Although that can't truly be said for others..."

"Draco." Hermione snapped.

"Okay, well, I should be getting on the train. Head Boy duties, you know how it is. I'll try to see you around Christmas, then, Granger?"

"Alright. Have fun." She said, and he sauntered off onto the train, his Head Boy badge shining much to Potter's chagrin.

"I didn't know that Lucius was back."

"Excuse me?" Hermione replied as soon as Harry spoke out of Malfoy's earshot.

"I missed Lucius being back in your first letter. You should report him, Hermione."

"No, then Lord Voldemort would still be around. Look, Harry, whenever the baby's born, I might need your help with some stuff. Oh, I needed to talk to Blaise – have you seen him?"

"Hermione, Blaise is dead."

* * *

Ron was done finding himself a compartment and stowing away his luggage when he looked out the window to see Hermione talking to Harry. It was an odd feeling, her being only about 10 meters away from him. And he sudden had the urge to talk to her, to hold her hand, to kiss her, to... do more. Ron sighed, and handed one of his parcels to a fellow prefect as he left the compartment, his breath sticking to his lungs.

As he neared the two, he heard Harry say something about Blaise before Hermione's face dropped. He stopped, and she looked absolutely stunned. She was gorgeous. There was something different about her, something glowing and mature and secretly happy. He'd heard whispers of her staying with the Malfoy's. He'd even written her one letter, but she hadn't replied. Maybe she and Draco really were living together and screwing on a constant basis. But now was not the time for what-ifs and maybes. He stepped forward and saw an astonished look on Harry's face.

"Hey Ron."

"Um, Harry, can I talk to Hermione, in, erm, private please?" Ron said. Harry looked to her and she nodded. He made his exit as Ron stepped up to her. "So, have you been living with Draco?"

"Ron..."

"The train leaves in a few minutes and I need all my ends tied."

"Yes."

"Are you sleeping with him?"

"No."

"Do you love him?"

"It's... complicated. We have what I guess you could call an understanding."

"How romantic."

"Ronald, I did not come back to this platform to be chastised by you. I've already decided not to come back this year because of... circumstances so can we please make this civil?"

"I love you."

"This is neither the time nor the place."

"You're not going to say it back?"

"I did, Ronald but things are complicated. Even if I did, now would not be the time." The Hogwarts Express gave a few quick toots of its horn.

"It'll be difficult without you," he said, and stepped forward. He hugged her before she could stop him, and she felt him go rigid and eerily still for a second. She knew. He knew. "What is that?"

"Ron."

"What is THAT?!"

"Ron, please."

"How pregnant are you?"

"Five months, but-"

"You didn't tell me? Is it mine?"

"No," she said softly, and bit her bottom lip, fearing that she would cry. "I've been staying with Draco because it is his baby. A legilimency person told us it was his and then we had some tests done at this Wizarding midwife he found. I wanted it to be yours, I did. But it is not and I could not put you through that. So I do love you, but, like I said, it's more complicated than that," she said and choked before he hugged her again.

"Ginny's been hinting for nearly two months now that something was up, and I miss you like insanity. You never wrote me back."

"I never got any letters."

"I wrote you one. Maybe Pig messed it up. But I'll owl you just as well as I talk to Draco, hopefully civilly. When's the baby due?"

"January."

"Oh." He looked up as the conductor waved angrily for him to get on. "I'd better go."

"Hey Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

* * *

**Review!**


	36. Civility

**Chapter Thirty-Six: Civility**

Hermione hated to admit it, but she was growing to enjoy the pampered world of Malfoy Manor. Lucius, still believing that she and Draco were going ahead with the possession, had hired a few personal lady's maids to watch over her and the baby, and now her nails were always done, her bed turned down, but she had also taken it upon herself to get to know her servants, and they were actually becoming quite good friends.

Draco had been away at school for nearly a week and a half, and she did find herself missing the long studying hours and piles upon piles of books. She attempted to content herself to the long hours of boredom now that her dizziness and nausea were starting to fade. Lucius had begun to purchase different versions of books, all wrapped with Death Eater propaganda, but bad reading was better than no reading at all, in her opinion. She looked up as Jolein entered the room and smiled.

"Hello." Hermione said, as she noticed a rolled up scroll in her eyes.

"That wouldn't be for me, would it?" She said, smiling as Jolein tossed the scroll to her. Hermione unrolled it.

* * *

_Hermione-_

_I'm just writing you in my free-time between classes and avoiding Pansy. Ever since word about Blaise got out, all of the students assumed it had something to do with Death Eaters and everyone and their mum has been trying to get on my good side. It would please you, I think, to know that I'm trying to cut down on my smoking. I figure that if I do spend a lot of time with the baby after it's born, I wouldn't want to give it cancer._

_I take it you've let the Weasel and Scarhead know about the baby. Lately they've been rather un-annoying and actually talk to me. Of course, it's always about you and 'the you-know-what' but it's better than having to come up with clever insults all of the time. I hope you're doing well, and they say hi._

_Regards, Draco_

_

* * *

_

_Regards?_ She thought, and smiled, handing the letter back to Jolien.

"So what did he say?" she asked, in her cute Dutch accent. Hermione smiled.

"He sends his regards. Says Harry and Ron are being nice. I guess they think Draco can order me killed at any moment."

"Did you really tell Ron you loved him? I mean, here all this time I thought you and Draco..."

"Oh no, deary, what 'Young Malfoy' and I have is not love. But it's no longer hate."

"So you're in love with Ron?"

"I never said 'in-love.' I don't know what I feel anymore. It is all of these bloody hormones. I want to love Draco, but he's such a complex person. Ron's sweet and I'll always care for him, but... well, there's just no hot intensity there like there was with Draco."

"So? Anyways, if you don't mind me saying so, I think that you're not yet even seventeen so you don't need to be thinking about grandeur things like that. You should be more about... shopping. Not who-you're-going-to-spend-the-rest-of-your-life-with."

"Jolein?"

"Yes?"

"In four months, I am having a baby. I should be thinking about those things."

"I guess you're right. Do you want some privacy to write him back?"

"No, I'll be alright with you here. I hate being alone now. With Lucius in the house."

"Oh, well he probably won't be coming within inches of you. He doesn't want to anger you while you're in such a fragile state."

Hermione laughed and tossed aside Draco's letter.

* * *

Draco sat, slightly bored, in his seat in Seventh Year Potions. Weasley and Potter sat across the room from him. Snape trounced proudly at the front of the room, and Draco attempted to take notes without worrying about this weekend. He needed a two-day pass. He had to have it. 

Dumbledore, it seemed, had been quite disappointed at Hermione's absence, and thus named Susan Bones Head Girl in her place. Pansy had since taken up with a Sixth Year, and was finally leaving him alone, save for the occasional polite smile to keep from getting on his bad side. But Draco knew that his father had had Blaise killed. Blaise knew, but had no strict Death Eater ties. He'd had to go.

The class ended, and Draco drew in a breath, walking up towards Snape. He looked up, giving him a grin that one could barely manage to call content.

"Afternoon, Professor."

"Afternoon, Draco. I noticed you were a bit distant today. Those pesky Gryffindors giving you problems?"

"No, not at all, Professor. I do have a favor to ask, though."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"I need a weekend pass."

"No."

"Snape, I do not ask for a lot of tangible things from you, but this is rather important."

"Draco, after all of the time you spent away from school last year, Dumbledore has asked that all of your comings and goings stay under incredible scrutiny – and, seeing as you are still technically under probation from the Ministry-"

"Please." Draco said, and hated it the moment the words left his lips. He always hated having to beg, it made him feel so lowly.

"Alright, but I will be keeping tabs on you, so you know the rules."

"Yes, yes – no drugs."

"If I feel you doing any of those, I will have no choice but to report you."

"I understand."

* * *

It was a Friday now – September 18th, and Hermione sat at the window where she had received the fateful news of Hogwarts just over two months weeks ago. She had begun to wonder why she hadn't received any letters from Ron or Harry – only Draco. Tomorrow was her birthday, and she'd never really felt more alone. Sure, Jolein and Nanette would show up every now and then, but she really missed the closeness they'd all had at Hogwarts. 

The sun was setting on the horizon just as Hermione felt herself growing quite fatigued. That was one of the things she liked about the pregnancy – it gave her an excuse to sleep very often. She was on her way to her bedroom when she heard the distinct sounds of footsteps behind her. Indeed, Hermione felt rather scared. The sexual energy that had always exuded from Draco also beamed from his father, and having him near her – alone – still frightened her despite what Jolein had said. Attempting to hold her heart in her chest as it beat wildly, she turned around, and attempted to hold in her scream.

* * *

"So you never wrote her to tell her she was expelled?" Harry asked Dumbledore in his office, and the old man shook his head. 

"Alas, no. Any contact that's been attempted towards her doesn't seem to be getting through, Harry. You said yourself that she has not been writing you back. Is that correct?"

"Yes, Dumbledore."

"And you said that Lucius is out of Azkaban?"

"Yes. Couldn't you just owl them or something?"

"I'd like to, but I have a feeling that there's something bigger going on here than just Lucius having escaped and him keeping a closer watch on your Hermione than we'd like."

"You think it has something to do with Voldemort?" Harry asked, and Dumbledore turned to him, sighing.

"Doesn't it always?"

* * *

"What are you doing here?!" Hermione shrieked, and the Head Boy before her smiled. 

"I got a weekend pass."

"But, why, Draco?" She asked, and he smiled. Walking up to her, he held out his hand, and at first, she had no idea what the gesture was for, but she watched as he began to whisper softly and soon a tiny little cupcake with a single candle sat in his palm.

"Happy Birthday," he said, and handed her the sweet. She, taking it, raised her eyebrows and looked at him.

"You came all the way back for my birthday?"

"Yes I did."

"Why? It is not until tomorrow" She asked, and was met with no answer, but suddenly felt her heart floating down to her toes. Draco had kissed her.

* * *

**Review! **

**P.S. - In response to all of the concern about Ron's return and "Where Draco and Hermione stand," I'm going to first say that I've had this story and its outcome planned for some time now so only minor story suggestions get taken seriously (i.e. a funny incedent,) but I don't _ever_ want what the characters truly feel to be so Mary-Sue-obvious. This is not a fluff fic. Sorry.**


	37. Happy Happy Birthday, Baby

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Happy Happy Birthday, Baby**

At first, she was shocked beyond all reason. She and Draco had pretty much decided that they wouldn't have sex with each other anymore, so why had he kissed her? He never kissed her without intent. She felt the tiny cupcake beginning to capsize within her hands as her belly pressed against him and her left arm wrapped around his neck. But all this was broken with the sudden rapping of a cane against the tiles. Draco stopped kissing her, and looked down for a second.

"Evening, Father." Draco said, taking a step back from her.

"Why are you not at Hogwarts?"

"I got a weekend pass."

"Why?"

"Head Boy business. You should be proud."

"We've talked about this."

"About what?"

"Her!" Lucius yelled, and Draco turned to directly face him.

"Father, forgive me for speaking freely, but this is complete and total bollocks." He said, and smirked, "I ask for so little from you-"

"You ask for everything."

"I am giving you my firstborn child! Please do not interrupt me. I have been thinking. In exchange for the baby, Father, I've decided that you should really lay off the rules, okay? I am making sacrifices, is it so unthinkable that you should do the same?"

"Draco, are you telling me what to do?"

"No, Father, I am asking. Do not forget that you ordered my wrists cut before the entire congregation. And I am still giving my son to you."

* * *

"So the two of you knew all along and you never told me?" Ron asked as he, Ginny, and Harry all sat in his four-post late that night, after Harry had returned from Dumbledore's office. 

"She asked us not to tell you, and you didn't even want to hear her name after the Malfoy... thing, so there was never really a good time."

"Never a good time to tell me my girlfriend was pregnant?"

"Ex-girlfriend, Ron." Harry corrected him, and ignored the look he got.

"But now Dumbledore thinks someone impersonated him and told Hermione she couldn't come back to Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, someone who obviously doesn't want her associating with us and whatnot."

"Well then that settles that." Ginny said, and Harry looked at her.

"What?"

"It's Draco."

"I don't know..." The Boy-Who-Lived replied, and the Weasleys looked confused. "I mean, I asked her how he was treating her and she seemed rather content. Like, not head over heels brain-washed or anything."

"But we know that Dumbledore hasn't written her in months so how would she think she was expelled unless someone was impersonating him? I mean, the only person who has been able to contact her _is_ Malfoy."

"I know, Ron, but it could honestly be Lucius or something."

"Well we can't write her."

"Why don't we just go to the Manor?"

"What?"

* * *

"He really lost his rag on that one, didn't he?" Hermione asked as she finished changing into her pajamas. Draco shut the door behind him and nodded, his spitfire comments towards his father hadn't gone unnoticed, as Lucius had launched into an incredibly energetic tantrum. Draco had told Hermione to go her room and, as is custom, Draco and Lucius yelled at each other for a few minutes, and now Hermione sighed at the pink welt that was developing on Draco's cheek. "You ever think about hitting him back?" 

"Ah, I've tried that. It works on occasion and it's quite a pleasant feeling, but mostly I just wanted to get the fuck out of that room."

"Oh."

"What is on your feet?"

"Bunny slippers."

"What?"

"It's a muggle thing."

"Well sit down, I have presents."

"What?"

"It's your birthday in two hours, so I have gifts."

"Erm, okay." Hermione said, crossing her legs and plopping down on the white down comforter that covered her bed.

Draco smiled and with a flick of his wand and two parcels came floating into the room.

"Two?"

"Now, give me a second. This gift," he said, taking one wrapped tightly in shining red paper, "is _to_ you, _for_ me," he said, smiling. She laughed a bit and opened the gift. Reaching into the tiny box, her still slender fingers slid over the black and pink silk.

"Draco..."

"I know it's still slightly breaking our agreement but I saw it and knew that I need to see it on you," he replied as she lifted the Pussycat Dolls-like corset out of the box. A year ago, Hermione would have called it trashy, but now the corset with matching black lace undies was cute to her. However, her heart fell when she looked at the top and down at her slowly enlarging belly. "Oh, it's a truly one-size-fits-all product. I got it at _The Witch Within_. It fits any size, shape – no matter what." He said, and Hermione couldn't hide the tiny grin that escaped. She didn't know if Draco intended to seduce her tonight, but the fact that he still found her sexy was enough cause for happiness right now. Then, he had suddenly placed a second gift in her hands. She untied the white ropes, and they fell apart from a blank diary.

"A diary?"

"It's more than that. It's completely effortlessly maintained. It keeps a record of every day, and how you feel. You'll be able to keep track of your life without necessarily having to."

"Draco, both of these are great."

"There's, erm, one more."

"What?" She asked, and looked up as her bedroom door slid slowly open, revealing a polished black and silver pram. "Oh my goodness, Draco!" Hermione shrieked, jumping happily up. "It's beautiful."

"I felt like my kids, and my... well, you and my kid deserve the best. "

"Thank you so much, Draco!" She yelped, and hugged him tightly.

"No problem," he said, and smirked.

"Why did you kiss me earlier?"

"What?"

"You kissed me without sexual intent. Why?"

"I was happy to see you?"

"Do you love me?"

"Granger, can't we keep it simple for once?"

"Well I wanted to, but someone got me pregnant so it's a bit complicated for me. I love Ron, and I want to make sure I'm giving him up for something good."

"You never considered me the good guy."

* * *

Lucius finished copying another letter in Dumbledore's handwriting. A thank you letter to Hermione for understanding his wishes, it had been getting rather hard storing all of the letters from Dumbledore and Ron and Harry and Ginny and many other people who had been owling Hermione non-stop, but he just could not tolerate her associating with anyone who might change her mind. Draco, as much as he hated to admit it, had been right. Giving Lucius his son was quite a sacrifice that should be honored with tepid acceptance that, if Draco felt compelled, he should be allowed to shag whoever he wants. Maybe the fact that his son and the mudblood were fucking on a constant basis would increase her want to engage in his. Maybe she had finally acknowledged the disgusting reality of her bloodline.

* * *

"I'm sorry about that," Draco said, as Hermione's sweaty head was still pressed against his cheek. "That wasn't fair. I shouldn't have made you do that. I shouldn't be so damn sexy." He chuckled, still breathless as Hermione hit him playfully. He kissed her again, and sucked on her neck as she talked. 

"We broke our agreement."

"It's," he took a breath and looked at the nearby clock, "officially your birthday. You should get laid on your birthday."

"You didn't."

"No, I got high on my birthday," he replied, kissing her, "but seeing as you can't do that, I figured that that was the next best thing," he smiled, and was suddenly in awe at the sight before him. Hermione lay underneath him, smiling, and she reached up to brush away one of his awry hairs that was matted against his face. The moonlight was this harsh blue and cast an eerie shadow over her face. She was, in essence, perfect. He kissed her again, and kissed her until the two of them fell asleep in there, the rest of the world locked out.

* * *

**Review, please, and I may be taking a little break for a while to work on an X-Men fic. I AM NOT DISCONTINUING THE STORY. If you're interested in X-Fics (or reading more of my work), check out _The Frigid vs. The Fiery,_ which should be up in the Movie/X-Men section in a few days. **


	38. Draco Breaks Stuff

* * *

**Message to all of my readers: When I said I may take a break after Chapter 37, that was a _may_ - not a definite yes or no. So I got a good response and decided to finish.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Draco Breaks Stuff**

Draco left a few days later, and he never managed to tell Hermione that he loved her.

Now there's a gargantuan difference in types of love. The ways in which Draco loved his eagle and the ways in which he loved his mother and now her. Not so much the kind of love he'd heard Narcissa talk about in trashy wizard romance novels. He could eat, and he could sleep.

But whenever he thought about someone hurting her or the baby or ruining what they were, he got the urge the rip of that person's head and gouge out their eyes and do all sorts of unholy things to them. So, yeah, he thought, maybe he loved her.

* * *

Christmas break was in a few days. Ron was getting rather tired of Draco's somewhat obvious possessive nature when it came to Hermione and the baby. The four of them (Draco, Ron, Harry, and Ginny) had been working hard to keep the baby a secret, but Pansy always seemed to be ready to spill the beans at any moment.

All of the anticipation actually ended up entertaining Draco. According to Hermione's letters, she was getting huge, and his father was getting more and more paranoid about the baby. She even had what she called "tailers" which were these two guys whose job it was to just watch her all day and make sure she didn't do anything too dangerous. Even Draco's death eater mark twinged every now and then with excitement, and he knew the Dark Lord was awaiting the baby's mid-January arrival. Despite everyone's dismally low expectations, Draco soon found himself with all rather high marks on his tests and was packing up his things in his room when he heard the distinct sound of the boor behind him slamming shut. He sighed, and gripped the wand by his side.

"If you're from the ministry, go ahead and test me because I'm clean."

"You know, your pathetic attempts at intimidation are sorely disappointing," he heard, and turned around to face Pansy.

"What do you want?"

"To talk."

"Look, Pans, just get out of my room okay? I've got to Floo out of here to somewhere in Diagon Alley where I can then apparate to my house to make sure that my pregnant girlfriend is okay."

"Your what?"

"My what?"

"You just called her your girlfriend."

"Well, my bad. I guess I just assumed with the fact that she doesn't hate me and she's not a whore and she's having my kid to sort of be a girlfriend-like attribute."

"Oh," she said, looking down. "How's the baby?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"What?"

"Just please, go back to your boyfriend and leave me alone."

"Draco-"

"Pansy, get out."

"Draco!" And Draco, for the first time since his birthday felt the nearly uncontrollable urge to pan her head in. But he simply gripped his fist tighter, and stared at her.

"I am going home, okay? I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to associate with you any more."

"Draco, I am sick of all of this make-up break up bollocks!"

"Well let's just call it break up bollocks for now, okay? I am sick of you and your neediness and your hatred of the one girl who ever really cared about me and gave a damn whether or not I had a huge fucking black eye on my face after I talked to my dad. You never noticed as long as I was shagging you until you went blind. So we're over now. I am going home, and in one month, I will be a father and far too busy to waste my time beating old girlfriends away, alright?"

"Did you just break up with me?"

"When were we together? I think we broke up when you fucked Blaise," Draco said, feeling the white spots he'd created on his knuckles start to fade away as the grip on his fist loosened. "Have a happy Christmas."

* * *

Hermione couldn't run anymore. She more or less waddled very quickly from place to place as the baby inside of her stomach kept announcing its up-and-coming entry into the world by kicking the living shite out of her at every chance. Now Gertie, Hermione's wizard midwife, was also staying at the manor along with Nanette and Jolein and the two tailers, whom Hermione had heard to be named Horace and Jasper. Gertie had even taken to sleeping on a cot outside of her bedroom in case – Merlin forbid – Hermione went into labor at three or so in the morning. When she did, however, Lord Voldemort would immediately be sent for, along with Draco if he were at school.

Draco, however, blew into the house that night on cloud nine, nearly prancing. He swing around the pillars inside the corridor as Hermione and Lucius ate dinner for the billionth time in an achingly awkward silence. He kissed the top of her head and nodded a cheeky "what-up" to his father.

"Hello, family! Who puts the fun in dysfunctional?"

"We do," Hermione said, laughing and recalling one of Draco's past letters. Lucius stared them both down.

"So I trust you got satisfactory marks. You seem chipper."

"I did and I am because I finally managed to come to a very perky yet sobering conclusion."

"Oh, and what's that?"

"Hermione," he said, turning to her. "I love you."

"What?" She said, and Lucius choked on the bit of vegetable in his mouth. He kissed her and ran off to his room. His father made a motion but Hermione stood up and followed him quickly. Anger was flooding through her. How dare he do this! How DARE he complicate matters so much. She swung his bedroom doors open as he started to unpack.

"Why would you do that?"

"What?"

"Why did you say that?"

"I felt it."

"You are an asshole, you know that?!"

"Excuse me?"

"I have been sitting at your house for the last four months, being bored out of my damn mind, and you just come back and fuck it all up?"

"What?"

"It was easy to put up with all of this crap while I was hating you, but the last thing I need is for you to tell me you love me and complicate it!"

"Why?"

"Because I'll miss you when you leave because I love you, too!"

* * *

Harry was lying in bed, at the Weasley's – of course in a room very far from Ginny's. After Ron had found out about the pregnancy, the rivalry between Harry and the Weasleys had greatly decreased.

Ron couldn't stop talking about her and the baby ever since he'd seen her at the platform. Harry was amazed at his less-than-satisfactory marks. Ron had always gotten much-less-than-satisfactory and Harry was sure that he'd get lower without Hermione's assistance. But Ron had somehow managed to pull through with pretty good scores – for him.

He wondered what Hermione was planning to do when the baby came. Would she go back to school? Would she bring the baby to live with her and her parents? Would she get back together with Ron?

* * *

Hermione stood there steamingly angry with Draco for complicating her world.

"You can't get mad at me for saying that I love you and then say it right back."

"Yes I can!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No! Will you just shut up?!"

"Ow!" Hermione suddenly cried out.

"What now?" He asked, and saw her face suddenly go white pale as her hand went directly for her bulging abdomen. "What happened?"

"You broke my water."

* * *

**Review! Just a quick note to all of my readers. I am starting my freshman year in college, so my updates may become less frequent, but don't worry! I WILL NOT ABANDON THIS STORY!!!**


	39. A Long Awaited Arrival

**Hi everybody! I just wrote THE chapter we've all been waiting for, and please check out my other story on here, The Frigid vs The Fiery on "Movies X-Men: The Movie". It's a rather similar plotline involving Rogue, Pyro, and Iceman, save for the pregnancy and the female allegiance crossovers. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: A LONG AWAITED ARRIVAL**

It was seven hours later, and now she was pissed. She'd been in the manor's delivery room since her water had broken, and there had been pretty much no new development. Draco had panicked, first yelling at her for getting the floors of his bedroom wet then _'being early and impatient.'_ He'd left the room and she hadn't heard from him since. Lucius had come in periodically to check on her, told her that the Dark Lord was being alerted and would be on his way when the baby was finally born.

"Whenever that is," she'd replied sardonically under her breath.

She didn't realize how different this was from what she'd dreamt about since she was a little girl. She'd always been in a Muggle hospital, surrounded by balloons and teddy bears while her mom and dad waited anxiously outside with all of her relatives. Hermione had never imagined that she would be pretty much under lock-and-key at the house of her many-night-stand while her father kept a close eye on the baby so an evil wizard could possess it. Nope. That scenario had never come into her head, but now it seemed so sadly existent.

She fought her way through another blinding contraction, and knew she was near tears when the door to the room opened. Looking up, she saw Draco propped up against the back wall, nervously twisting a bit of his shirt fabric.

"Where have you been?" She asked, sitting up and feeling the baby move again inside her stomach. She was ready (and had been for the last several hours) for the baby to go ahead and move on out. But, in looking around the world the baby would be entering, she could understand why that kid wouldn't feel like leaving any time soon.

"I went out. I tried to floo out or apparate or go out on a broom, but my dad wasn't letting me."

"Why'd you leave?"

"So I, um, kidnapped my driver and made him take me to Surrey."

"Why on Earth would you go to Surrey?"

"Hey, know-it-all," she heard a deep voice reply. A smile spread widely across her face as Harry entered the room.

"Holy crap!" She yelled and breathed him in as he hugged her. His jacket was cold and he smelled like rain and cloves. "What are you doing here?"

"You don't think I'd miss the birth of my godson?"

"Yeah, listen up WonderBoy, I never agreed to that shit," Draco spat from across the room, and Harry chuckled.

"He's been like that the whole ride back."

"He drove out to Surrey to get you?" She asked, narrowing her eyes in puzzlement.

"Yeah, well I figured he'd probably be a better source of birth encouragement or whatever than me," the Ferret replied from his perch on the couch near the door.

"That was really nice of you, Draco."

"Well let's not start planning a triple wedding just yet," he said, and sat in the chair as Hermione breathed in deeply as another sharp pain overwhelmed her stomach.

"This sucks," she said tightly as Harry held onto her hand, and a tear fell from her eye.

* * *

Draco woke up in the room a few hours later. Gertie had come by periodically to check on Hermione's status, but it became annoyingly obvious that despite the intensely painful and more frequent contractions, the baby had no inclinations to escape any time soon.

Hermione looked incredibly tired as Harry slept in a cot next to her. She drank a glass of water, and smiled weakly when Draco opened his eyes.

"Lucky," she laughed.

"What do you mean?"

"You've gotten to sleep," she answered, her voice quivering. He, sensing her fragile emotional and physical state, got up and sat next to her on the bed.

"I'm guessing everything's not spot on."

"No! It's _not_! I've been laying here, in full-on labor for ten hours and I haven't made any progress and I don't think it's gonna happen, I mean, what if this baby just stays in me forever and then eventually, I'll be, like, fifty and have this greedy little thirty year old man inside of me!"

"I doubt that could happen, Granger. My mother was in labor with me for, like, two days or something."

"Two days?!" She yelped, and burst into tears.

"Look, just relax, I mean, this is kind of giving us more time to talk about what we're gonna do about the Dark Lord."

"I don't want him to have the baby."

"He won't. We'll think of something. I mean, if worst comes to worst, we can just kill him. If he dies before the transfer, then his soul has nowhere to go and he's dead."

"Are you sure we can just kill him?"

"I think it's possible. If we get rid of his wand, there's really no way he can stop us if my dad's not around. I mean, he's only human."

Harry lay next to them, listening intently to their conversation. Only he knew the prophecy. He would have to kill him.

* * *

"This is unacceptable, Gertrude! How long is this child going to take?" Lucius asked, after twelve hours of waiting. Hermione's water had broken upon Draco's return at around eight o'clock last night. Now, it was eight in the morning and that stupid mudblood had yet to produce a son. He was getting rather impatient.

"We really have no idea of telling. All we do know is that the baby, right now, is in no danger and will come out when it's good and ready."

"WELL, GET IT READY!" Lucius yelled, as there was a sudden banging of fists on his study door. "WHAT?!" Draco pushed the doors quickly open. He looked flushed and rather anxious.

"Okay, her pains are coming really quickly now and she says she needs you." He told Gertrude, who flashed a look at Lucius and followed Draco out of the room.

* * *

He was amazed at her power. Although she held tightly onto his hand – enough to wear he thought she would break it, everything she was doing seemed to be unbelievable. She cried and screamed and then would go silent when she was told by Gertrude to push. There was one more left, and she was in quite a state.

"Okay, sweetheart, we're gonna need one more push," she said, and Draco felt her grip on his hand tighten as a tear rolled down her face.

"I can't," she said, her voice breaking.

"Yes, you can."

"Yes, you can, baby – you know you can," Draco whispered comfortingly, pressing his lips against her cheek.

"You don't understand," she cried. "This hurts so bad – I should have gone to a Muggle hospital, they would have given me drugs."

"You don't need drugs, okay? Please. Push," Draco said, taking her powerful little hand between both of his. The pressure on his hand became immense as Hermione's face became overwhelmed in intensity and concentration. When the pressure released, Draco felt his heart drop to the floor to the sound that would change his life. The tiny, siren-like wailing that came from Gertrude's arms. Looking up, he saw the infant – tiny, wet, and a reddish-purple – screaming at the top of its lung as Hermione celebrated her completion of this great task by once again bursting into tears. Draco, however, couldn't pull his eyes off of his child as Gertrude dipped a towel in a bowl of hot water and started to clean off the baby's angered and screaming face. From his place beside her (as Harry had left the room and was hiding out to avoid being seen by Lucius) Draco looked the tiny person up and down, looking for anything wrong. It was, without a doubt, the most perfect creature he'd ever seen. Ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and one entirely bald, soft little head.

"Is it okay? Is the baby alright?" Hermione suddenly asked, and Gertrude smiled as the baby was currently starting to calm down. Draco hadn't said a single word.

"Well," he asked the midwife softly, as if it was possible to crack the fragile air with any sound. "What is it?"

* * *

**Hehe - review!**


	40. Arrival of the Dark Lord

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**CHAPTER FORTY: ARRIVAL OF THE DARK LORD**

Hermione continued to sob as Draco watched them clean off the wailing little baby girl. She had tiny arms and legs, and each moment that ticked by was hell. He needed to know everything about her. Was she blind, deaf, squib? He was worried that the muggle blood in Hermione would complicate things, but he doubted so as they handed the infant to Hermione, wrapped tightly in a pink little blanket.

"Oh, wow..." she whispered as the baby slowed on its screams, content to look intensely on Hermione. It was as if she recognized her mother and father. She knew where she came from. Her eyes were the most startling feature on her face – wildly blue, almost silver like Draco's.

"She's perfect," Hermione said, and started crying again as she felt Draco's kiss on her damp forehead.

Draco looked up to see his father, seething at the back of the room. He knew that Hermione's failure to yield a _son _would create problems, but right now that was the last thing on his mind as his eyes floated back to his daughter.

"Well, congratulations. I'll go tend to business," Lucius spat, spinning around with his cape and cane flourishing as Gertie, Jolein, Nanette, Horace and Jasper all remained in the room.

"You are all dismissed," Draco said, quietly, and when they didn't leave, he followed that statement with a rather harsh "GO!"... and he was left just with Hermione and their child.

"You want to hold her?" Hermione asked, looking up at Draco, and he went almost whiter than usual. "You'll do fine," she said, and scooted over a bit in the bed as Draco sat next to her. Soon, he held in his arms an innocent six pound two ounce little bald girl. The heat coming from her was amazing as her head lay against his heart. Her tiny little arm was so soft as he stroked it, and she just stared at him. In this moment, he knew he couldn't give her to Lord Voldemort. He would die before anything ever befell her. She was breathtaking, and he knew that once his baby girl got to be a teenage, she would cause nothing but trouble for the whole wizarding world. She would be more beautiful that any of the girls he'd ever seen. And the only woman he could think of more mesmerizing than her was gone.

"Narcissa," he drawled.

"What?"

"She looks like my mother."

"Let me see," Hermione said, eagerly accepting her daughter back into her arms. "Oh, wow, she does. Draco, I-"

"What do you want to name her?"

"I was thinking about Lorelei."

"What?"

"Lorelei. It means 'cliff' or 'the edge'."

"It's perfect."

"Lorelei Narcissa Malfoy," Hermione whispered, and Draco looked at her, confused. "She deserves to be proud of where she comes from. Your mother would be so proud of you," she said, and kissed him quickly. The two looked up as Harry burst through the door, white as a sheet.

"What?!"

"He's here, Lord Voldemort's here."

* * *

**There ya go! Short, but necessarily so I felt.**

**Review, and then GO SEE MEAN CREEK!**


	41. Protecting Lorelei & The Flying Chevy

**Chapter Forty-One: Protecting Lorelei & The Flying Chevy**

Draco stood dumbfounded on his feet, staring at Harry.

"Are you kidding?" He said, as Hermione went white as a ghost. Draco found himself seething, insanely angry with the Dark Lord for ruining this moment. For a few shining minutes his life had been perfect.

"What are we gonna do?" Hermione asked, her voice shaking. "He can't have her! He can't!"

"Relax, he has until midnight so that gives us about sixteen hours to come up with something. Let me see her."

"What?"

"If I walk out without a baby, he'll be suspicious. Death Eaters always produce immediate results."

"But what if-"

"Relax, we like to do night stuff anyways. No one is going to try and possess her at nine in the morning," he said, and kissed her cheek.

"Harry, I'm gonna need you to stay here and try to keep the... mind-melding thing you and Voldie got going on to a minimum, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because I don't want him knowing that you're here!"

"Aw... you don't want me killed... that's sweet!" Harry said jokingly as Draco turned, still holding Lorelei, and left the room.

* * *

Both Lucius and Lord Voldemort looked up as Draco walked into the room, holding Lorelei tight against his chest. She seemed to be trying to burrow into Draco's chest, to get as close to his heart as possible. She was afraid, and Draco was, too. Lord Voldemort stood up and nodded in respect as Draco entered.

"My congratulations, young Malfoy."

"Thank you, Lord" He said, and froze as he saw the long, pale, spindly fingers reaching out for his daughter.

"Might I see her?" He asked, and it took every ounce of force Draco possessed to agree, turning Lorelei around so Lord Voldemort could look at her. Draco stiffened, worrying that she would start to wail, but she didn't. He'd never seen someone less than an hour old give another human such an intense look, almost as if she was sizing him up. "She's got an intense look about her. A bit tiny, but strong." He said, and Draco's fists were curled into petite white knuckled balls at his side. Lorelei continued to stare Lord Voldemort down as he ran his fingers over her face. "And I guess if I am to become a woman, it helps to be beautiful," he said, handing the child back to Draco. "I will be ready at eleven, Lucius. I trust you will have everything ready?"

"I will, Lord." He said as the Dark Lord turned away, his cape brushing around the dust on the ground up into a swirl.

"You kept your cool, Draco – I'm proud of you," Lucius said, smirking.

"Anything to appease his Lordship. I would never disappoint him in such a pressing manner," he replied as he laid his daughter down along his forearm to look into her eyes. Their blue would soon be replaced with an evil green as soon as the Lord's Slytherin soul infested her. It sickened him to think of it. Here she was – just hours old, and soon her life would be so greatly dismantled. "Father?"

"Yes?"

"I've decided to name Harry Potter as Lorelei's godfather."

"Excuse me?"

"We named her Lorelei."

"I meant about the Gryffindor. Why him?"

"Well," Draco said, searching for a plausible reason, "should anything happen to us, the Lord will be permanently around our enemy. That would certainly be the perfect opportunity for the Dark Lord to enact his blessed vengeance. Do you disagree?"

"I do not."

"Then... it's settled then?"

"Of course. Harry Potter shall be named as Lorelei...?"

"Narcissa."

"DRACO!"

"She is my daughter to name as I wish!"

"I refuse to let her have that name!"

"IT IS NOT YOUR DECISION!"

The baby started to cry.

"Draco, if you name her that-"

"Lorelei Narcissa Malfoy. That's her name, Father!" Draco spat and stormed out of the room.

* * *

"So how are you feeling?" Harry asked Hermione, playfully pushing at her feet.

"A bit tired. I'll take a nap after midnight."

"Why midnight?"

"I'll know she's safe. They'll leave her alone if she makes it past midnight."

"Why are you doing all of this? Why don't you and Draco just leave?" He questioned as he ruffled his hair.

"Because they would look for us, and they would kill us, Harry."

"Like my parents?"

"Exactly. And then Lorelei would have a scar, and a horrible connection to Lord Voldemort and I wouldn't want that to happen."

"What are you gonna do?" He asked, and moved forward on the bed as Hermione started to cry.

"_Merlin, I don't know_." She said, and he hugged her as Draco entered.

"Ooh, fun – what did I miss?"

"What'd he say?" Harry asked, moving cautiously away from her as Draco placed the baby back in her arms.

"He said she's strong. And beautiful."

"Well that's true," Harry said, and Draco smirked.

"She takes after her mom."

"Oh my... shut up." Hermione said, blushing. "So what are we gonna do?" She asked as she stroked the top of Lorelei's head.

"I've been thinking about it and there's only one way out of it."

"What?"

"I think...." Draco, began, and nervously shuffled his feet.

"We're gonna have to kill him." Harry finished.

* * *

Hermione eventually did welch on her pledge, and napped. The baby slept in the bassinette across the room as Draco nodded off on the sofa in his room. Harry kept a close watch on the baby, and tried to fight the sleep that threatened to take him over. But he was also tense, and craved a cigarette.

Checking to make sure that Lorelei was still safe, he stepped out onto the concrete balcony and lit up the thin black stick. He heard a rather odd sputtering in the distance and was astonished, as it grew closer. He almost set himself aflame when a 1950's Chevy materialized in front of him.

"Holy Shit, Harry – you smoke?" as the familiar voice from upon the driver's seat.

"Ron?" The red head climbed out and flicked his wand, the car heading presumably back to the burrow.

"Hey. How's the family?"


	42. Golden Trio, Back in Action Part 1

**CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: GOLDEN TRIO, BACK IN ACTION; PART 1**

Harry stood in disbelief as Ron stood before him.

"What... what are you doing here?"

"Rumor mill circulates, Harry. Word got out that Draco Malfoy was seen in muggle Surrey – what other reason could there possibly be?" He replied, and Harry nodded, letting out a quick chuckle. Ron shuffled his feet nervously before answering the question that both he and Harry were dreading. "So... How's the baby?"

"She's great."

"So it's a girl?"

"Yeah..."

"And it's Draco's for sure?"

"As far as anyone can tell. No hair," he answered, knowing full well that all of the Weasley children were born with full heads of red hair, having seen several of Mollie's baby photo albums.

"Oh..." Ron hummed, and looked into the room, where Hermione slept soundly on the bed along with Draco on the couch. The black pram/bassinette in the corner of the room caught his attention.

"I don't know if you going in is a good idea."

"I've been missing her."

"So have I, but that house, from what I can gather the manor is crawling with Death Eaters and without Hermione's perky know-how we're kind of at a loss."

"Why don't we just kill everybody?"

"Because... Ron, they're death eaters, they're not like gnomes. You can't just toss them around or whack them over the head."

"What about the Killing Curse?"

"It could work, but I don't want to go to Azkaban."

"Yeah...."

"Ron?!" They heard her yell, and suddenly she sprang up from the bed and walked weakly over to him, although it looked like she was attempting to run. Throwing her arms around him, she hugged him tightly and realized how much she'd missed him. He smelled like Ron, felt like Ron. But it couldn't be him – here. At the manor. "Ron?" She said, again, and held onto him. He kissed her forehead.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm scared."

"Well then, we're gonna have to come up with something."

"What happened to Ron Weasely, the coward?"

"He got laid."

* * *

Draco once again stood before his father as he dressed his daughter. The long white dress, which muggles would have seen as a Christening gown hung long beneath her as she cooed and wriggled in his hands. He knew that somehow Granger and Harry and Ron were coming up with a plan. He never knew how they always managed to keep their cool and get through hard shit. Right now, attempting not to unleash hatred upon his father as his daughter smiled – probably from gas again. She wasn't even a day old. Her eyes followed his fingers as they wrapped the delicate white fabric around each button. The tension in the room was thick enough to be cut like butter with a hot knife.

"She won't be hurt by any of it, will she?"

"I doubt it. And even if she is, she won't remember it."

"It doesn't matter, Father. I don't wanna watch her suffer. At all." He demanded, and Lucius nodded, smirking from within his hood. Several Death Eaters had arrived, and were milling around aimlessly, awaiting the ceremony. Awaiting their chance to kneel before the Dark Princess, held up by Draco and Lucius and Hermione. _"Like in the Lion King,"_ Hermione had said, mention a muggle children's movie Draco had never heard of.

He lifted Lorelei up to where her soft chest was pressed against his heart, his shirt soon wet with her attempts at nursing from his shoulder.

"Yes, gentleman, that goes in the center of the foyer," Draco overheard Ernestine command as he saw a very familiar sink-like structure being carried into the center ballroom. It was the snake-like sink in which he had been baptized.

"What is that here for?" He quickly asked, holding Lorelei tightly against him.

"Her darkening, Draco – you know that. You had one, Blaise had one, Pansy, etcetera."

"Whose blood are we going to use?"

"Well..." Lucius said, pausing tentatively. "You- oh, nevermind."

"What?"

"It's not important."

"You can tell me."

"Well you didn't expect us to be keeping the granger girl around after she had the baby that long, did you?"

"What are you saying, we're going to darken her in Hermione's blood?" He joked, and the lack of a return laugh from Lucius confirmed all of his suspicions. The cold that began in his fingers traveled all through his body, and Lorelei began to cry. She sensed it, too.

"I think she's hungry. I'll take her to.... Whatever." Draco said, and rushed hurriedly out of the room. He had to get to Hermione. Warn her. Tell her. Get her out of her, but as he quickly shoved open the bedroom door, he was met with quite a different picture.

Hermione sat crying on the bed as two Death Eaters held tightly onto Harry and Ron, who were knelt on the ground, the skin on their necks almost touching the dual-sided axes that a few of the hooded men held.

"You'll be pleased, Mr. Malfoy. Now we don't just have to darken your child in the blood of the mother. We've got the whole Golden Trio!"

"Oh, Draco, I'm sorry." Hermione said, a tear hitting the bed.


	43. Golden Trio, Back in Action Part 2

**_Sorry the update too so long, folks, but the story is so ACHINGLY close to being finished and I really don't want to screw it up! Please review!_**

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**CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: GOLDEN TRIO, BACK IN ACTION; PART TWO**

Draco sat in misery in the overstuffed armchair in the family foyer. There was no way out of this. He knew that Harry, Hermione, and Ron were being led to their deaths, and soon his daughter would be... well, not his daughter anymore. And there was **no way out of this.**

* * *

"I'm so sorry, Ron." Hermione sobbed as the three of them were chained down. A nearby guard stood inattentively, knowing their escape was impossible. These chains were unbreakable. Ron tugged at them again.

"It's okay." He sighed. "At least we're all back together again."

Harry chuckled weakly, staring at the long sword that hung on the wall. On it were emblazoned the words _SALAZAR SLYTHERIN - _no doubt this would be Lord Voldemort's sword. Harry recalled the day in the chamber when he had defeated the basilisk using Godric Gryffindor's sword. How ironic this day was turning out to be. The three of them had been stripped of their wands, but Harry secretly knew that the gesture was pointless. Lord Voldemort could not be killed by the use of his wand. There had to be another way.

"I know this sounds quite trite, but I love you guys." Ron said.

"Me too."

"Me too."

"You guys remember that one time we were all fighting?"

They laughed. That had happened so many times. Harry looked over at Hermione, who was quietly starting to cry.

"It's going to be okay."

"No! It's not going to be okay! I can't do this!" She cried. "I can't just leave my daughter! She just got here and I am so scared to leave her alone with that FUCKED UP FAMILY! It can't be okay! We can't do this!"

"There's nothing we can do!"

"There's always something!"

"LIKE WHAT?" Harry yelled as the door opened, and Lord Voldemort smiled in the entryway.

"Well look who it is."

* * *

Draco had fallen asleep, watching the sun set in the windows. His daughter now slept soundly in her slick black bassinet, her tiny pink fingers curled up into fists no bigger than snitches. If she only had wings. Several Death Eaters milled around the house, doing nothing of any significant importance. There was only one Death Eater that would have stood out, had any of them been able to see his face. He was much older than the rest - they assumed he'd crossed over perhaps in his late fifties, if he existed in mortal years, but soon this cloaked stranger stood before Lorelei in the bassinet, amazed that the joining of Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy could produce such a beautiful child. His wise, old fingers touched upon her soft, silken infant skin as she breathed out slowly and her big blue eyes the size of Galleons opened. If infants were able to gasp, she would have.

But somehow Draco knew someone was near the baby, and he shot up from the overstuffed armchair, his wand pointed at the Death Eater who stood over his daughter.

"Put her down, scum. It's not time for any of that yet."

"Oh, Draco. It is far past time for you to do something. You know that. Now, put your wand away and come with me. " The voice from inside spoke, and Draco soon felt his heart drop to his toes when he realized who was behind the cloak. Thank Merlin.

* * *

"This reminds me of Muggle movies, don't you think? The bad guy has the good guy - or guys in this case - all tied up and he's absolutely sure that they're going to die. So what does the disgusting idiot muggle bad guy do? He spills the beans. He gives the game away by spilling his ENTIRE plan! I always thought Muggles were idiots, and son of a giant if the good guy didn't always get away and kill the bad guy _because he knew his plans_ Well, seeing as I am not a Muggle and quite possibly one of the most feared wizards that ever roamed this forsaken planet, I'm not telling you a blasted thing." Lord Voldemort finished, smirking as his horrendous teeth shone in the light.

Harry could still hear Hermione crying as the Dark Lord turned his back to them, heading for the sword. This was it. They were going to die. And in this instance, Harry started praying. A muggle thing he hadn't done often, except when Aunt Petunia would force him into church when she felt she needed to save her "Duddles". But it seemed to comfort him now as he heard the metal scraping against the stones. But then a door opened.

Lucius seemed extremely irate.

"Begging your pardon, Lord, but the child is gone!" He yelled, and Hermione's head sprang up.

"What?!"

"Draco and the child have disappeared!" Lucius barked, and Lord Voldemort angrily tossed the sword down.

"You had something to do with this!" He cried at Harry, but Hermione spoke up the facts like always.

"How could he?! We've been tied up down here since you found us!" The Dark Lord stood angrily before her, and nodded.

"You are quite lucky, precious mudblood mother." He said, and exeunted with Lucius by his side. The door shut, leaving the Gryffindor's trio completely confused. It was only when a dark cloaked figure stepped from within the shadows that it all made sense. A Death Eater stood before them, Lorelei in his arms and Draco by his side

"Honestly, Harry. How many times will I have to save you three?" A very familiar voice echoed throughout the dungeon as this Death Eater removed his hood.

"Dum... Dumbledore?"


	44. Golden Trio, Back in Action Part 3

**CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR: GOLDEN TRIO, BACK IN ACTION PART 3**

As soon as Draco had removed Salazar's sword from its place on the dungeon walls and cut the ropes that bound the Gryffindors that he would have, six months ago, called his enemies, the three of them turned to face Dumbledore.

"Inspiration has never been your strong suit, Malfoy." He whispered, and stood before the four of them.

"Normally, I would be standing at your side to fight, but everyone has a moment, Harry, in which they realize that the youths they once regarded as helpless children are now capable wizards and witches."

"What are you saying?" Harry whispered as the Dumbledore started to become transparent. Hermione recognized it immediately as a slow apparation as Dumbledore's wise eyes fell to Lorelei, who was tucked safely into her arms.

"I am saying that Hermione is someone's mother now. You and Ron are of capable wizarding age. I couldn't be more proud of you three." He said, and a slow, wrinkled smirk crept across his face. "And as for you, young Malfoy, you've had quite a year. I trust that, in the next hour or so, you can make the best of it."

"You're not fighting with us?" Hermione whimpered as she looked at the ropes that lay near her.

"I was never fighting with you," he said. "You were fighting for me. Fight for something else now," he said, and soon disappeared entirely. Draco looked around, and realized that he was still holding Salazar Slytherin's sword.

"What do we do?" He said, and relinquished the sword as Harry took the snake-like figure into his hands.

"We kill him. Once and for all. I'm sick of watching him die," he spat.

* * *

Lucius was near throwing up. After leaving the dungeon, he, along with all of the other Death Eaters, had stormed the castle looking for his son and granddaughter.

"This is an outrage! He's a punk teenager with a tiny baby! How far could they get?!" Lucius screamed, watching the Dark Lord once again apply to Cruciatus curse to a servant who claimed they knew and saw nothing. After the housemaid had soon passed out, Lord Voldemort kicked her unconscious body to the side and inhaled deeply.

"Get me the Gryffindors."

"What?"

"I want them dead. New body or not, I will not rest until I see Harry Potter's corpse before my eyes this night."

"Lord, I thought we agreed that Harry should never die a martyr..."

"I DON'T CARE ANYMORE, MALFOY! I WANT HIM DEAD BY ANYMEANS NECESSARY!" He screamed, and quit his yelling as Lucius suddenly went rigid and blue. He tottered for a second before falling, body-bound at the Dark Lord's feet.

He spun around, both he and Harry feeling immense joy at the sight of one another. Lord Voldemort sneered, his rotting teeth showing themselves as Hermione held tightly onto the pink bundle in her arms.

"Why look at the triumphant little trio. Always getting out of traps. You three just WON'T DIE!" he yelled, and held out his wand, but a nearby Death Eater shouted.

"No! Sir! Any curse you send at them could hit the child!" He called, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named reluctantly set his wand on a table.

"Good point, Crabbe. Hermione, darling..." He croaked, reaching out a decrepit finger. "Give me the child."

"No."

"Do it!"

"I will not!" She yelled as the three of them stood opposite the Lord in the foyer, the room so thick with tension it was nearly impossible to breathe. Hundreds of Death Eaters stood at attention, their shrouds swaying in some unseen draft that blew into the hollow room. Ron was not making some cowardly face as usual, but simply stood behind Harry, his face narrowed into a grimace as he held tightly onto Hermione.

"If you will not give me the child, I shall take it," he yelled, and grabbed his wand, "_Accio baby!"_ he cried, and the pink bundle flew from Hermione's arms and landed against his chest. Harry lowered the sword for a second as an unrecognizable Death Eater stood closely next to him.

"Now we have everything," the Death Eater gloated. "You will all be dead in a matter of minutes." Harry seemed forlorn, and sank to his knees, the useless grip he held on the sword was to no avail. Lord Voldemort knew that as long as he held on to the Boy-Who-Lived's goddaughter, he would harm him in no way. Tears began to cascade down Hermione's face, as Lord Voldemort laughed maniacally.

"Kill them!" He ordered, and the Death Eaters around the room charged at the three. But before any of them got close enough, Harry sprung to his feet and brandished the sword, tears rolling down his face as he began to yell.

"That's how you deal with everything, isn't it? KILLING IT?! My mother, my father, my godfather! Everyone I loved! You don't think I know you'll kill Draco once you find him and do to Lorelei what you've done to me? Many times I wish I'd rather be dead that have lost everything I have, and if we have to die, then so does she!" He cried, and charged for Lord Voldemort, the sword pointed forward.

It sliced through the pink bundle quickly, and out through the back of Lord Voldemort. Hermione screamed.

But as the Dark Lord's blood began to flow down his back and his dark eyes widened and the Death Eaters stood stunned, the pink blankets fell from the sword in tiny folds, revealing only a petite baby mouse that scattered quickly from the fabric, untouched.

"And so do you." He spat as Lord Voldemort crashed to his knees, caught momentarily by the unrecognizable Death Eater by his side as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named stared at his ancestor's sword, was buried deeply in his torso.

"But the... it felt like a child."

"Any spell can make fabric feel heavy if you paid enough attention at school," said the unrecognizable Death Eater. As he removed the hood, Hermione gasped to see it was Draco. "And 'accio baby' will bring you any baby - even a mouse," he hissed into his ears, opening up his cloak to reveal Lorelei, held tightly to his chest. "Not my daughter, though. You didn't aim for her."

Hermione burst into tears as her daughter was handed back. Horror ripped through the Death Eaters as Draco grabbed tightly onto the sword in his chest and pulled it out. The scream was agony. Whipping the weapon around, he crashed it into the table and split the Dark Lord's wand into shards. A tear ran down his face as he looked at the sword, still fresh with blood.

Wiping it off with his cloak, he attempted to hand the blade back to Harry, who shook his head, and Draco nodded solemnly.

"Harry, do you have anything to say?" He asked, holding the sword against Lord Voldemort's neck as Hermione winced and looked away.

"This..." he began, and choked as he pulled out a long gold and red sword from his robe. It had taken him a very few tense moments to conjure it, but Dumbledore had sent it none the less, knowing what power it had over the Lord and what importance it held to Harry. "This is how a baby, with no extraordinary magical talent was able to defeat the greatest wizard of all time." Silence consumed the room as Lord Voldemort saw what Harry meant. Hermione, Ron, Lorelei, and Draco stood around him as Harry put the tip of Godric Gryffindor's sword to his chest.

"Say hello to my mother for me," Draco whispered, and he and Harry ran their swords through the man who had created this whole Dark world. The man who was responsible for the deaths of thousands. The man who had attempted to take the soul of a child not yet a day old just as he had wanted to take the life of a child just a year old so long ago was now still stuck on his knees as a green and silver blade pierced through his throat and another through his heart. "I suggest you all go home," Draco spoke to the congregation that still stood, motionless. Sliding the sword out from underneath the Dark Lord's head and quickly swung it around, lobbing off his head. The skull rolled about on the floor until it came to rest at Lucius's then bloody shoes. "Lest you meet the same fortune."

"Draco!" Lucius suddenly sobbed as his fell to the floor, clutching the Dark Lord's head tightly. "You have ruined us! You will burn for it! I'll see you get thrown into Azkaban! You'll be kissed by Dementors for sure!"

"Please, father," Draco hissed, turning to face Lucius, "You couldn't even get them to let me keep my wand. One of the Malfoys will surely grace the walls of Azkaban with his screams - but it won't be me." He said, as Ministry agents suddenly descended on the manor.

"That," Ron said, laughing nervously, "is definitely Dumbledore fighting with us."

* * *

**_Review! Also, one of my readers asked for their to be one more sex scene before the story ends (as it still has three more chapters to go.) If you agree with this, seeing as the last scene was kind of raunchy and I may want to end the story on both a sexually and emotionally high note, I just may. Let me know how you feel._**


	45. Aftermath

**WARNING: Okay, I don't know how Britain does graduation ceremonies for high schools. I don't even know if they have them. So, I just wrote the Hogwarts ceremony as an American graduation ceremony, based on my own. If there are any complaints (or, hell, pointers) from my British readers, simply AOL IM me at "nfmadprops04"**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wanted to publish this chapter on Sunday at, like, 1 in the morning but the update kept me from doing it until after my noon class on Tuesday. Ick!**

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**CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE: AFTERMATH**

The Ministry agents were soon cleaning up the house, along with a fury of tipped off journalists. The four students were soon ushered into separate rooms with separated Ministry of Magic agents to give their statements before, for the first time, Draco found himself entirely alone in his house. The servants had all been excused for the day, and Hermione, for some reason, found herself packing as Lorelei slept in the pram in her bedroom.

Why she was packing, she didn't know. It was only December 20th and Hogwarts didn't start back up for weeks. Dumbledore had sent a message with an agent that she would be welcomed back at Hogwarts this term, along with Lorelei. She tossed a hopefully cleaned pair of socks into her suitcase as her door was opened.

She spun around, and exhaustedly smiled as she saw Ron.

"Hey," she exhaled and hugged him weakly.

"How're you doing?" He asked, handing her a bunny slipper from the ground. She took it, and shrugged.

"As best as can be expected, I suppose. I mean, today I had a baby. I watched what I thought was my baby being stabbed by her godfather and then I watched her father and godfather kill the worst and most powerful wizard – next to Dumbledore – that ever roamed the wizarding world," she managed to choke out in one breath. "I'm tired." Ron nodded, and stood over the pram, watching Lorelei sleep, her thin eyelids covering the painfully blue eyes and her cheeks were pink and perfect. But Hermione could tell, from the grimace on Ronald's face that looking at the baby hurt.

"Are you okay?"

"I just… it's odd. I always thought that when I was looking at _your _daughter, she would be mine."

"Yeah," she replied, nodding. "I know what you mean. To think that a year ago, my world was so different. Isn't it just a bit funny how strange life can be?"

"Well, what do you mean?"

"If I hadn't have gone up on that roof that night, I wouldn't have seen him. He would probably be dead right now."

"And we could be together."

"Not necessarily, Ronald. You see, the weekend you asked me to the Cannons game, I wanted so desperately to get away from Draco. I needed to be as far away from him as possible, so I went with you, and while what happened pissed me off, it brought us together. When I found out I was pregnant, I prayed that Lorelei would be yours. But she wasn't. If she had been, life would have been simpler, but Lord Voldemort would still be alive and terrorizing our world."

"I know," he nodded, and stroked her cheek. "Why are you packing?"

"I think I may go home. My mum and dad still get the Daily Prophet and Draco placed a birth announcement in there. They're going to know now, so I might as well head home anyways. They'll probably let it slide seeing as a terrifying wizard dictator died in the process."

"If they get mad, you're – erm – welcome to stay at the Burrow. Ever since Fred and George moved out, it's seemed awful quiet. I miss you."

"I miss you, too." She said, and felt her toes grow cold when he kissed her. Parting their faces, she sighed. "I can't do this. Not now. My life is about to get really complicated."

"About to?"

"Just leave me be, for now, Ron. Merlin knows I love you, but… I need to make the decisions that are best for her."

"Okay," he said, and kissed her cheek, making a distinguished exit.

* * *

The students of Hogwarts were joyous as the new term began, seeing as they had all received a long-awaited Christmas gift. The December 25th issue of _The Daily Prophet_ touted the defeat of Lord Voldemort at the hands of the Malfoy heir and the Boy-Who-Lives - and the birth of Lorelei Narcissa Malfoy five days before. A smiling photograph of Draco and Hermione was tucked in at the bottom for all to see. Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced to death at Azkaban.

Dumbledore had arranged to move all of Hermione's baby things into her grand-prefect room after her brief stay with her parents. Using the Time-Turner and Winky as her handmaiden, she was to attempt completing enough classes to graduate with her classmates in July. Susan Bones still held the title of Head Girl, but Hermione was just as accepted by the school.

Lisette never came back after hearing about the baby, not even for the impromptu baby shower that the girls of school had thrown her. Her grand-prefect room was little bit pink pillows and dolls and stacks of nappies and outfits and quilts, and an abundance of knitted materials from Molly Weasley.

Hermione awoke on February 20th, the sun streaming in through her windows. A gigantic boquet of roses sat near her on the night table next to the Time Turner. Having the Time Turner often allowed her to get extra sleep, as she knew that she could always turn it back when she awoke to sleep a bit more. Lorelei, however, had other plans, as her crying echoed in the corner of the room. She pushed the thick covers off of her legs (which she was joyful that she could once again see) and stepped out of the bed, only to have the crying stop.

She looked up, and smiled as Draco turned around, placing a bottle in her mouth.

"Hey… what are you doing here?"

"Please, Granger, you don't think I'd miss the two month anniversary of my daughter?"

"Oh my, I'd hate to see you on her _real _birthday. All fussing and protective," she said, as Draco kissed her forehead and she took Lorelei.

"They, erm, kissed my father last night." Draco said, absent-mindedly sticking his hands into his robe and biting his lips.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm cool, I guess." He said, kissing his daughter's soft tuft of platinum hair. Draco had even taken to buying her Li'l Pegasus Mercury shampoo, and - much to Hermione's chagrin - magically shrunken Slytherin toboggans and sweaters. As Lorelei made a small cooing noise, the door swung open, and their heads craned towards her door.

"Oh, hey Harry!" She said, and kissed his cheek as he rubbed Lorelei's head softly.

"Hey Malfoy, I heard about your dad and -"

"Don't mention it, Scar."

"No problem, ferret. So… I guess you're worth assloads now."

"What?" Hermione asked, looking suddenly confused.

"The ministry saw that now I was of age, they, um, left me with my father's fortune."

"What?" Hermione gasped.

"Everything. The house, the cars, the servants, the broom collection. I own a Australian Quidditch team that my father bought before I was born."

"Are you serious?" She asked, handing Lorelei to Harry and took Draco into a deep hug. "Do you want it?" She whispered into his shoulder, and he nodded.

"I want my baby to have the best of everything. I'm worth… a lot now."

"How much?"

"Harry! His father just died!" Hermione shouted, but Draco simply sat down on the bed and looked around the room. Lorelei followed him with her eyes, her chubby fist held tightly onto Harry's thumb. The fact that she was thin had deeply worried Molly, who had subsequently ordered Hermione to feed the "li'l doll" as much as she could.

"I'm just asking."

"Fifty million." Draco replied, blushing a bit.

"What?!"

"My father would never tell me how much money we had. It was always just 'a lot'. They just transferred all of the money to my account at Gringott's this morning."

"Draco, you can do anything!" She said, giving him another close embrace. He nodded, and took a small note from his pocket.

"I want you to have this," he said, and Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, looking slowly from him to Harry to her daughter. "What's this?"

"I got you and Lori," he said, using his nickname for the baby, "your own account. I want you to have half."

"What?!"

"I got you-"

"WHAT?!" Hermione screamed, and Lorelei started to whine. "Oh… oh, shit! Oh God! Oh my God!" Hermione said, jumping up and down. She suddenly stopped, and looked nervously at Draco. "Are… are you sure?"

"Yeah. I mean, once numbers get that high, there's hardly a difference in twenty five and fifty million. You and Lori deserve it," he replied, and Harry hugged Hermione who had started to cry.

"I'll never forget this," she whispered over Harry's shoulder at Draco.

Suddenly, Hermione's doors opened to reveal Ginny, who smiled brightly.

"Hermione, you better get your hands off of my man!" She laughed, and walked towards her. "Speaking of men, Harry, I need to see you." she said, and smiled as Hermione left the room.

As Harry left, Hermione sighed, and wiped her eyes.

"I'm, erm, sorry about my little freak out just now." She replied, slightly embarrassed, but Draco just nodded. "Since you gave me half, I'm going to assume that we're not getting married?"

"That's a big positive," he said, smiling.

"Yeah, good point. I never could stand your presence either," she joked. Lorelei laughed as Draco grabbed playfully at her stomach. "What are we going to do?"

"I've been getting… threats from the Death Eaters that weren't caught. Death threats. Threats against you, me… and the baby. That's why I can't marry you. I don't think I could bare my enemies harming her. I'd kill them."

"Then," she cried, her voice choking. "What? Are you just never going to see us again? Was this just a consolation prize?!" She screamed, chucking the bank note at him before grabbing her purse and heading quickly for the door, but before she could make it, she felt his arm grab her forcefully and pull her back. Spinning her around, he kissed her just as powerfully, running his finger alongside her cheek. Lorelei cooed nearby. In the same room where she had been conceived, her mother and father kissed.

"In the past year, you have changed my life. I would probably still be my father's goon if it weren't for you. And if I didn't have letters coming in every day about how several hundred men are planning my death, then I don't know – maybe I would marry you. Maybe I wouldn't. But we can't. I can explain my situation to the civil courts of the Ministry and maybe they can come up with some sort of agreement, like I get her every other weekend with body guards or a shielding spell, but I cannot risk watching her die. Because if Lorelei dies, I will too."

"I understand. So I guess this is goodbye?"

"Well we still have about five months of school left, so not necessarily, but no matter what happens, Lorelei will always be my daughter."

* * *

Draco finished his Head Boy's speech at graduation, and sat down in his throne up at the front, next to the Head Girl. He smiled at Hermione, who had left sitting charges to Ginny in the crowd in the coliseum, as she sat with the incredibly large Weasley family. Draco's speech had blown everyone away. Granted, Hermione had pretty much written it for him. The ceremony took what seemed like forever, but soon many of the graduates stood outside of the coliseum in their multicolored robes – Gryffindor red, Slytherin green, Ravenclaw blue and Hufflepuff yellow – and it took Draco eons to find Hermione in her red robe, despite its several chords and badges.

"Hermione!" He yelled across the crowd, and no one looked up in surprise as she hugged him, still a bit emotionally tender after the trying emotional day.

"You alright?"

"I'm good, you?" he asked, taking off his cap.

"Fabulous."

"Can I talk to you?"

"Um, sure," she replied quizzically and shrugged to the nearby Ginny as Draco took her hand and led her away from the group, behind the building. "What are we doing?"

"I'm flying out soon."

"What?"

"I'm leaving in twenty minutes to… leave. I've booked myself on a tour of the wizarding world. Everywhere. Ireland, Belgium, Bulgaria, France, the States, I'm going to see it all, but I have to leave soon and I needed to say goodbye. Now."

"What do you mean _leaving_?"

"Hermione, I sold my manor. I just have my money and I've decided that if I find a place I like, I'm going to settle there. I'll keep you up to date, but I don't truly know when I'm going to see you again."

"I don't believe you're just leaving like this? You're not even going to Seamus' party?"

"As fun as drinking with the Irish is, I'm gonna have to pass. I'm free now, thanks to you. I can do whatever I please, but I couldn't leave without saying goodbye and-" his words were broken by her kiss.

As crazy and as heartbroken as she felt, Hermione couldn't bare to let him leave her like this. An insane sort of desperation coursed through her veins as Draco's hands gripped her sides powerfully and slammed her back against the coliseum building, hurting her head but she said nothing as her graduation robe soon sat alongside Draco's in a crumpled heap outside of the small closet they'd managed to find. Hermione found herself crying as she kissed Draco, lost in the dark, but cowering to his familiar touches. She knew, in her heart of hearts, that this would be the last time she would be so enraptured in him. He held her close in the blackness, the heat between them almost two intense as no sound was made but his passionate and desperate breathing. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he pressed her up against the startlingly cold tile walls and she let out a sudden outburst. Draco pressed his mouth to hers to silence her, and she whimpered as she felt the very depths of her body beginning to shake and shatter with the knowledge that soon their union in the darkness would be over. She'd seen to avoid the mistake they'd make earlier, and she worried none as Draco released himself and his grip on her, his face pressed into her neck as she heard his whispers of "I love you, I'll miss you, goodbye, I love you", and she silently sobbed, not knowing if he was doing the same, from the amount of sweat that had slipped between them.

But he was.

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**Okay, folks. One, maybe two chapters to go! REVIEW PLEASE I LOVE IT SO MUCH WRITE LONG, LENGHTY REVIEWS AND IT MAKES ME SMIIIIIILLLLLLLLEEEEEEE (smile)!**


	46. Happy Mother's Day

**CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY**

Hermione was not yet used to money when she got married. She'd never imagined herself getting married at twenty. She felt it was too young, but then a lot in her life hadn't ended up as she'd predicted it. She hadn't expected to have a baby at seventeen, or kill Lord Voldemort, whose name had lost all power, who can plan these things?

She awoke to the feeling of tiny weight at the end of the bed, and smiled tiredly at she opened her eyes, spying Lorelei crawling towards her. Lorelei was around three now, and had obviously missed her mum and dad was they'd been away on their honeymoon. Hermione'd had Harry and Ginny sit for the two weeks she and her husband had been away, and Ginny told Hermione that it turned Harry off of the idea of having kids for a long time. Lorelei wasn't a brat, she was perfect, thought Hermione as her daughter held up a pink rose.

"Happy Mother's Day!" She spat happily, and her mother sat up, kissing her cheeks. God, she looked more and more like her father everyday. The white blonde hair and blue eyes still existed, draped over a much youthful face that resembled Hermione as a baby. Hermione's mum never had any trouble bringing this up on her many visits to Magi Proper.

She picked up her daughter and walked slowly into the manor, descending down the cold stairs that stung her feet.

"Mornin' ferret," she said, entering the kitchen and smiling at her husband, who sat groggy at the dining room table. Draco smiled and kissed her as she walked by.

"If it isn't my two beautiful little ladies... Come here, sweetheart." He said, and Hermione handed down their daughter, who was content to nestle in Draco's lap as she reached across the table for the bowl of sugar.

"Don't let her eat that, Draco, I'm not kidding." Hermione bellowed from within the kitchen. He smiled coyly as his daughter licked her finger and began consuming sugar faster than ever.

His wife entered, and rolled her eyes, picking up her daughter.

"Drake, you know how she gets when she has sugar."

"Yeah." He laughed.

"Well, you're not the one who's going to spend half of the night pulling her down from the rafters!"

"I know." He said, smirking again and Hermione sighed angrily, leaving the room. Draco exhaled, and set his daughter down on the ground, following his new wife into the parlor.

"What did I do!" He asked, still smiling as she turned to face him.

"We need to establish a consistent form of discipline and rules."

"Honey, I told you about big words."

"You're acting like an ass just to irritate me!" She barked, and attempted to turn away. Draco caught her arm, and spun her back around.

"That's what we do. It's what we've always done. You're uptight, angry, emotional, and intelligent, and I'm a stupid spoiled pain-in-the-ass whore. And this is what we do, but I didn't mean to piss you off because I love you and you know that." He said, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You are such a-" she started, smiling as he kissed her. This never got old. The break-ups, the make-ups, and the incredibly fun make-up sex. The arguments they'd had about whether or not to buy Muggle or wizard baby food or which classes Hermione should take at the Witchcraft School of Higher Learning always ended with a kiss, just as this one did.

"I'm sor-" He started, and she kissed him again. They looked up as Lorelei entered the room, and Hermione bent down to pick her daughter up. "Oh, speaking of mothers," Draco began, placing his hand on his new wife's growing belly. "Happy Mother's Day," he said, and felt compelled to kiss his wife again, which he did. God, he hated loving her.

**THE END**

**(2-16-05)**

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**_I am nominated for an Accio fan fiction Award, so thanks to whoever nominated me. I may not write a sequel, but I definitely feel compelled to write another Harry Potter fiction. Please review if you have any ships or ideas you think may be fun._**

**_Carly: The reason it hurt Hermione so much was because Ron was bigger than Draco, so she just wasn't used to him yet._**

**_THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING!_**


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